No Way Out
by MyChaosTheory
Summary: AJ was convicted of a horrible crime, sentenced to 25 years in prison. No one believed she was innocent, except for one guard who just might be her salvation in this hellish nightmare run by warden Vince McMahon. Follow AJ, Punk, Randy Orton, and others through this twisted tale. (AU story at the request of AJPunkGirl95)
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: Hey everyone. I am doing this new AU story (where the male superstars are guards at a womens prison with the divas as inmates) at the request of a user on this site named AJPunkGirl95. She brought to my attention a story called Lights Out by CandiceViperRKO that was abandoned when the writer apparently lost her passion for writing. AJPunkGirl95 asked me to continue it so I reworked the plot to my own liking and am starting it brand new with this chapter. We sent CandiceViperRKO messages asking if it was ok to use her premise for my plot but she hasn't gotten back to us so I'm just going to put this up and hope if she sees it she knows I thank her for the inspiration. For those of you waiting on my promised sequel to Desperate Measures, don't worry because I'm working on that too but AJPunkGirl95 reeeeally wanted this! Ok without further delay here's the first chapter of No Way Out!**

* * *

"Listen up inmates! Welcome to Stamford Women's Correctional Facility. I'm Lieutenant Officer Brooks and I'll be your tour guide on your very first day of prison. Sadly you won't meet my superiors Warden McMahon and Captain Cena because they're a little too busy today to show the new fish to their cells. You've already been briefed on recreation and meal times, the proper way to address guards and what we like to call 'cell etiquette' from my underlings over here. So I guess all that's left is the 3 most important cardinal rules of this place: no whining, no crying about how innocent I'm sure all of you will try to convince everyone else you meet you are and this last one is even more important than the first 2: _DO NOT _piss me off. Ok now that all of that is done, Officer Bourne over here will read out your cell assignments and have you escorted there. That's all!"

There was a shuffle of activity at the front of the room as Evan accepted a clipboard with a list of names as his superior shifted past him. "Nice speech Punk," Curt jeered at him, jabbing his elbow and the man who was both his friend and boss.

"Shut up Hawkins," Punk snapped. "You know you're not supposed to call me that around the inmates."

"Oh right right," Curt said with mock seriousness, nodding studiously. He knew how much it bothered his friend when anyone referred to him as his long held nickname while they were anywhere near any of the prisoners. Punk preferred to keep his work life and his home life separate… and that was why his friends and fellow officers did it as much as possible just to annoy him. "Sorry about that _Officer Brooks_. So… what do you think of the new arrivals?"

Punk mulled this question over for a moment. "Eh," he muttered, looking out over the group of women again. "No one really stands out so far."

"Really?" Curt asked. "You can usually spot a potential troublemaker from a mile away." He leaned over to look at Punk's clipboard, scanning the names and pictures and inmate numbers. "What about the little one?" He pointed to her picture. "I think she's standing in the back."

"Mendez?" Punk asked. "She's barely 5 feet 1."

"Wasn't it you who said to never underestimate the small fries?" Curt prompted.

"Yeah," Punk admitted. They both remembered the last time a small unassuming inmate managed to fashion a blade out of ordinary materials and sliced him across the arm. It wasn't the first time he had been injured on the job and it probably wouldn't be the last. He glanced down at the photo of the woman Curt mentioned. She was young, only 25 years old, and admittedly pretty cute too… but plenty of the women who passed through this place were nice to look at. It didn't make them any less dangerous. "I don't know Hawkins. I've been working here for a long ass time. After 12 years of this shit they all start to look the same to me."

Curt just shrugged. "Alrighty then boss. I'll catch you later. Have to get these ladies to their cells." He clapped him on the shoulder and went to join Evan and the others to sort through the new arrivals.

As Curt walked away Punk looked back down at his clipboard, now slightly curious about the woman his subordinate mentioned. April Jeanette Mendez, alias 'AJ'. At first glance he merely saw a cute girl who got herself into trouble just like the rest of them. But looking closer he saw there was more. She wasn't just cute or pretty, she was beautiful, with her long brown hair, button nose and chocolate brown eyes… that were full of fear. But yes, as his original observation told him she was definitely only 5'1. And with that lightly boned face of hers that gave her expression a look of fragile innocence he couldn't help but think the tougher, meaner more hardened women would eat this girl alive.

He wondered what her conviction was… as he flipped the page, he found himself secretly hoping it wasn't a drug bust. Being straightedge (and with the tattoos to back it up) he had nothing but contempt for addicts and dealers. He bit his lip as he scanned her dossier… no this woman wasn't mixed up with drugs at all. According to this sheet little AJ was a cold blooded murderer. Now that he thought hard about it, he thought he remembered hearing about her case as the trial waged on in New Jersey.

_Just like all the rest, _he thought with disgust as he flipped the pages over and went to go back to his office. _Can't trust a pretty face in here any more then I can throw the fucking building._

* * *

AJ was innocent. The cops yelled at her for days and days to confess, newspapers and television and the internet twisted the facts of the case and the prosecuting attorney at trial spun a wonderful tale to the jury. Not even her own parents believed her. But since the day nearly a year ago when police came to her door and slapped the handcuffs on her wrists she always maintained her innocence even when they offered her a lower sentence in exchange for the "truth". She did not kill that innocent woman. But that didn't stop the state of New Jersey from sending her to prison for Rosa Mendes's murder anyway.

When they put her on the bus down to Connecticut early that morning, AJ couldn't help but wonder just how she got into this mess. She never should have taken that waitressing at that seedy strip club but she didn't have a choice, her student loan debt was absolutely crushing her and 3 years out of college she still hadn't managed to land a job in her field with her journalism degree. She heard from a friend she could make good tips waitressing at the club in skimpy outfits, and while she had to admit the money was good she just knew it wasn't a good place for her.

Her fears were confirmed only a couple of months after taking the job, when one of the most prominent strippers at the club, Rosa, turned up stabbed to death in the parking lot one night. All fingers were pointed to AJ immediately because of an argument that had turned volatile several nights prior to Rosa's murder. Rosa had accused AJ of stealing her tips after they went missing from her purse, citing jealousy as the reason why AJ might have stolen them. After insisting for several minutes that she never went near Rosa's purse it had finally degraded into a shoving match that security had to break up. Being the lesser employee, AJ was the one who was reprimanded by club's owner Steve Austin.

From there it was a whirlwind. The police claimed they found a few of AJ's hairs caught in Rosa's clenched fist, and AJ's fingerprints on the knife that was used in the crime (which was found under a car several feet away from the crime scene). She swore tearfully she had no idea how either of those things could've happened, that it must have been a mistake somehow. But it didn't matter what she said. Before she even knew what was happening the trial was already starting and she was convicted of first degree murder in what felt like record time. Now she was facing 25 long grueling years behind bars. 25 years! That was double her life. She would be 50 when she got out… if she even survived this. There was no way she would be able to make it through this…

She stood now dressed in an orange jumpsuit that was uncomfortably loose, they normally didn't make prison uniforms in her size. She was standing toward the back of the room trying to make herself as hidden as possible. This whole place terrified her and she wasn't even in a cell yet. The officer at the front had just finished speaking and his speech left her even more disheartened. If she wasn't supposed to talk about her innocence how would she ever be able to appeal her conviction? That guard, Officer Brooks, was definitely someone she would have to avoid if she could. Was it even possible to avoid guards? She hoped so… this one was scary, especially with all of those tattoos on his arms! What kind of guard had that many tattoos anyway? He looked more like he belonged in a prison cell himself.

"Mendez!" came a call from the front of the room. "Front and center."

AJ looked up timidly. Her name was being called. She carefully weaved her way between numerous other women in jumpsuits just like hers (all of which were bigger than her) to the front where another guard waited. Thankfully it wasn't that terrifying Officer Brooks. "Officer Orton will take you to your cell," the guard told her, nodding his head to a taller and maybe even more foreboding man.

"Let's go sweet cheeks," said Orton, grabbing her roughly by the arm. "It's time to go meet your cell mate Natalya." He led her out of the room and down a long hallway.

AJ allowed this strong man to half drag her through the prison, as by now she felt devoid of any hope of getting out of this hell. This wasn't her, this wasn't her life. But there was no escaping it now.


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of the cell door slamming shut after Orton roughly shoved her inside was easily one of the scariest things AJ ever heard. It was the sound of her last bit of freedom fluttering right out the window and taking with it any hope she may have been stupidly clinging to. She looked back fearfully at the door as Orton shoved a towel, a blanket and a pillowcase through the slot in the door. "You girls be good and have fun now," the guard called sarcastically with a smug smile before turning around and walking back down the hallway he'd dragged her through.

"So you're my new cellmate," came a rough female voice from behind her.

AJ let out an involuntary squeak and spun around to find a blonde, sharp nosed woman lying back on the bottom bunk. She looked very confident and sure of herself, propping herself up on her elbows as she sized up the scared young woman in front of her. "Um yes," AJ finally replied in a tiny voice, head ducked as she answered as though this would show she was desperately trying to show respect to the senior inmate in the room. "I'm AJ."

"AJ," the woman repeated with a nod. "Weird name for a chick."

"It's a nickname," AJ said softly. "It's my first and middle initial."

She shrugged. "Whatever. I'm Natalya. So what are you in here for _AJ_?" She pronounced both letters with a slow drawn out drawl.

The younger woman bit her lip. She had been hoping not to have to go into the horrible tale behind her conviction but she wasn't really stupid enough to believe no one would ask her. Would she be able to trust this woman Natalya? She supposed it didn't matter at this point. "M-murder," she stammered. "But I didn't do it. I'm-"

"Innocent, sure," Natalya said with an exaggerated knowing wink. "Just like I'm completely innocent of robbing a jewelry store with my stupid ex boyfriend even though they had me on tape. 'It will be too dark, you don't need to wear a mask,' he said. Stupid fucker."

AJ scowled, offended. "I _am _innocent," she said insistently, her desire to remain true to herself winning out against her fear of her cellmate who had clearly seen a tougher life than she had.

"Alright, alright settle down little girl," Natalya said flippantly.

"And that's another thing," AJ spoke up boldly. "I'm not a little girl. I'm 25." Her heart pounded with fear as she spoke, but she thought she should lay down the groundwork now and worry about the consequences later. She had 25 more years for that. Why did it matter if her words got her in trouble? She had nothing left to lose anymore.

"Really?" Natalya asked. "You look like you're 15." She shrugged and sat up. "Well I would check that little attitude of yours girl. That won't make you any friends in here. Besides didn't you hear Punk's speech when you got here? That bastard hates it when pretty little things like you going around whining about how they don't deserve to be here because they were wrongly convicted."

"Who's Punk?" AJ asked with a frown.

"Oh sorry. _Officer Brooks_." Natalya chuckled. "You remember the smug higher up guard who held that little orientation session right? Well his nickname is Punk. I guess that's what his friends call him. He likes to think none of the inmates know it but everyone does because the other guards fuck with him and call him by his nickname in front of us which he hates."

"Oh." She looked down again, recalling the "rules" Officer Brooks (or Punk) told all of the new arrivals. Realizing she'd just broken one of them sent a shiver down her spine. His attitude definitely made him seem like one man she did not want to mess with. "He's kind of scary."

Natalya shrugged. "He's a hardass but he's nowhere near as bad as some of the others, like Orton, the guy who brought you here." She made a face. "He's a scumbag."

"How so?" AJ asked.

It was Natalya's turn to look away now. "Let's just say he likes pretty women. A lot. And judging by the way he was staring at you when he dumped you in here I think you just might be his next mark."

"What?" AJ cried with alarm. "What does that mean?"

"Nevermind. I shouldn't have even said anything." Natalya yawned and sat up. "Well AJ my new roomie, welcome to the place. I can't promise I'll be your best friend but as long as you don't annoy me and get in my way I'll leave you alone. You get the top bunk by the way."

hr

"Come on Hawkins you're killing me!" Punk groaned.

"I don't know what to tell you Punk," Curt replied, his voice gravelly. "I've got a fever I'm pretty sure I coughed up one of my lungs an hour ago. I can't come in today."

"But that means I have to cover you," Punk growled. "I'll actually have to patrol and interact with prisoners instead of sorting paperwork in my office and playing Solitaire."

"Then play hooky and come bring me soup," Curt jeered.

"Ah fuck off," Punk replied with a chuckle. "Feel better asshole. You owe me one for this you hear?"

"Yeah I'm going back to bed."

Curt hung up, leaving Punk to stuff his cell phone into the pocket of his uniform with a frustrated sigh. Punk hated working regular shifts. After so many years of leaving work at the end of the day feeling angry or disgusted or even depressed at the sad situations he saw day in and day out (and not to mention being stabbed a few times), being behind a desk for a change was a bit of a relief. While he usually was never the kind of person to take the easy way out his promotion to lieutenant a few years back definitely took a load off his shoulders and his mind. He didn't have to see their faces as much anymore, the ones that were causing him to become more and more sympathetic to these wayward women as time wore on. But occasionally he had to cover for an absent guard, taking up his old job once again. Today that person was Curt, who was taking a sick day.

"Back on the beat huh?" his friend asked as he entered the locker room and observed Punk actually opening his locker today instead of heading straight to his office.

"Can it, Christian," Punk ordered good naturedly. "Yeah, Curt's out sick so I'm covering his ass."

"So you're actually the good guy Punk today?" Christian asked with a smile. "Well keep an eye out today. It's been too quiet on these blocks lately and me and Evan agree something's about to burst."

"Please," Randy muttered from another row of lockers. "They're just bitches."

"Hey!" Christian snapped. "They're still human beings."

"Whatever." Randy strode out.

"Dick," Christian growled.

* * *

AJ was not adjusting to her first few weeks in prison very well. She never slept anywhere close to a decent amount, constantly plagued with nightmares that woke her several times throughout the night. The food was disgusting slop that left her stomach in painful knots after meals; during her first few days there she had quite a few memories of Natalya chuckling over AJ in amusement as she was doubled over the toilet, vomiting the latest unsavory meal right back up. She was desperately homesick, thinking about her friends and parents and her poor little Chihuahua. Was her brother taking care of him? She had no way to know because her family cut off contact with her.

But the worst part of prison by far for her was the social aspect of it. The cafeteria reminded her so much of high school with everyone splitting into cliques at different tables scattered throughout the room. She didn't dare try to sit with her cellmate, who scared her to the point of avoidance. But where did that leave her to go? She was shaking with her tray on the first day, and ended up sitting at a table in the corner with some other new arrivals. She didn't say a word to them, and even today 3 and a half weeks later hadn't spoken to any of her tablemates. It was hard going so long without any sort of positive human interaction. But even as much as she cried at night, she was careful to keep her sobs silent enough that nobody heard. She couldn't be seen as weak.

There was a social hierarchy with the guards too. It didn't take her long to notice some of them paid special attention to some of the inmates… particularly the prettier ones. Natalya was right, something was definitely going on with Officer Randy Orton. He stared at her constantly, his eyes burning holes in the back of her head as she tried to walk unassumingly around the recreation area or the cafeteria or the cell block. A few times he stopped her and searched her for no reason. AJ didn't exactly have a bar to set it at, but she was pretty sure he was being rougher and more handsy with her than he needed to. His extra attention to her, always under the watchful gaze of his cold blue eyes, unnerved her.

Around the same time Orton started paying extra attention to her AJ noticed someone _else _was paying more attention to her too. She heard from whispers around the cell block that the taller, fierce looking blonde woman who was constantly staring AJ down was named Beth Phoenix. She was in on multiple assault and battery charges, a several time offender, and wasn't one to be messed with. But AJ didn't understand why she was paying so much attention to this little new girl. What had AJ done? She had yet to say a single word to anyone but her own cell mate so far. The whole thing worried her.

Those worries and fears were realized sooner than AJ ever expected. At lunch time one day she was grabbing her tray and getting ready to head off to solitude as usual when Beth purposely bumped into her roughly, sending her reeling back. "Hey!" AJ yelped as she smacked into a table. "What the hell is your problem?" The offensive words left her mouth before she realized who she was talking to.

"You're my problem," Beth growled angrily. "He's been looking at you! Why is he looking at you anyway? You been giving him something you little slut?"

"What are you talking about?" AJ cried in confusion.

"You know damn well I'm talking about Orton," Beth hissed.

"I'm not doing anything!" AJ promised, her heart pounding with fear. "I keep to myself I swear! I-"

"Stay away from him, he's mine!"

Before AJ could respond again, Beth gave her a hard shove that sent the smaller woman crashing to the floor. She felt a flurry of kicks and stomps all over her, causing her body to jerk violently about in a desperate but futile attempt to avoid the blows. She could hear a crowd forming around them; some women cried for Beth to stop but most cheered her on eagerly.

"Hey stop that!" a loud male voice called. "Clear out! Move!"

But AJ could only faintly hear the voice. The last thing she felt was the hard edge of a plastic food tray striking the side of her head before everything went black.

* * *

"Move aside!" Punk shouted as a sudden battle broke out in the middle of the cafeteria. He ran from his post near the food line to the center of the confrontation with Christian right behind him, both guards shoving past inmates. Punk quickly discovered the aggressor was the one beating her victim down to the ground and it didn't surprise him to see an often fighter, Beth was the perpetrator. Christian grabbed her by the shoulders, yanking her off as more co workers joined them to break up the fight. Another guard, Zack helped him and together they tackled a flailing Beth to the ground.

As they pulled her away Punk was now able to see the poor woman lying in a tiny heap on the floor was the little one Curt pointed out weeks ago. AJ he thought her name was. "Fuck she's passed out," Punk announced as he scooped her effortlessly off the floor and into his arms. "I need to get her to medical."

"Go take her," Zack said. "We've got this under control." Christian was handcuffing Beth.

Punk radioed the medical unit to let them know he was on his way with an inmate as he made his way through the corridors of the prison wing. "Come on girl wake up," he muttered as he held her limp form. He saw her eyelids flicker briefly before finally open, her glassy eyes glancing around for a moment before finally focusing on his face. She reached up drowsily, her fingers brushing against the rough stubble on his soft cheek before her hand fell again.

"I'm gonna make sure you're ok," Punk said firmly, the warmth she left behind never fading from his cheek. He finally reached the medical wing, bursting through as the doctor and 2 nurses on staff came to greet him. "Fight in the cafeteria," he explained. "She really got wailed on. Gash to the side of the head."

"Let's get her checked out then," the doctor said as the nurse wheeled a bed over for Punk to place her on. As he put her on the bed she opened her eyes again, this time focusing on him immediately even as the doctor shined a flashlight in her eyes. For some reason fixating on him seemed to help her stay up.

"You can go if you need to Lieutenant," one of the nurses said as they began cleaning her wound.

"That's ok," Punk said quietly. "I think I'll stay."


	3. Chapter 3

The doctor lightly sedated AJ with muscle relaxers so he could clean her wound and stitch it up, leaving her too out of it to even speak throughout the minor procedure. After examining the rest of her he was certain she had no other major injuries or broken bones but would be bruised up for quite awhile. He started an IV drip of fluids to combat possible dehydration before leaving her to tend to other patients, while she was still rather dazed from the sedation.

It was only as the medication began to wear off that AJ was able to turn her head and realized that the tattooed guard she hadn't seen in weeks was sitting next to her bed. What was his name again? Natalya told her didn't she? Officer… Lieutenant Officer something… but all she could remember was… "Punk?"

His head snapped up to look at her, he had been staring down at his cell phone. "You're not supposed to know me by that name," he said. "It's Officer Brooks got it? Or Lieutenant Brooks. Whichever."

"Sorry," AJ whispered, looking away. "That's all I could remember. My cellmate told me-"

"It's fine," he interrupted gruffly. "Just don't let it happen again." He shuffled his feet together awkwardly. "So now that it looks like you're feeling a little better I need you to tell me about this fight. How did it happen? Who started it? What was the reason for it?"

She bit her lip as she looked back at him. One of the very first things she overheard in prison was to never ever tell on another inmate for any reason. Those kinds of things got you killed. "I don't know," she whispered, threading her fingers together nervously.

He scoffed. "You don't know?" he asked clearly unconvinced. "So you were just attacked out of nowhere then? I don't think so." He paused. "Look AJ, I'm not stupid. I know the deal here. You're afraid of getting fucked up even worse huh? Don't blame you. Beth's a major bitch and she leaves a mark when she wants to. But listen. If you lie to me and tell me you have no idea why she attacked you she's probably going to give me some story about it being your fault. And if I don't have another story to compare it to I'll just have to throw you in solitary as punishment."

"But I didn't do anything!" she cried, her heart leaping out of her chest at the thought of being confined in an even smaller cell with no human interaction, positive or negative. "It wasn't my fault I swear!"

"That's more like it," he said with a nod, picking up his clipboard and pen. "Why don't you tell me exactly what happened then huh?"

AJ swallowed hard. "You don't understand," she said. "The woman is crazy."

"I know you're scared but if you don't tell me the truth you're going down too," he said flatly.

She wiped tears away from her eyes. She knew she had no choice, either way she was going to get in some sort of trouble. "I'd never even spoken to her before," she replied. "Then out of nowhere today she came up to me and asked me why 'he' was looking at me all the time. I had no idea what she was talking about, then she told me it was Orton, you know Officer Orton and to stay away from him! Then she just started attacking me and…" She left the sentence unfinished.

"Orton." He looked at her curiously. "Really? He's been looking at you?"

"I guess so," she whispered.

"Fuck." He grumbled to himself as he scribbled something on his clipboard. He knew exactly what this meant… but she didn't need to know that right now. "Alright. I've got what I need." He stood up. "Don't worry about Beth. She's going to be in solitary for a few months after this. But stay away from Officer Orton alright? And if he gives you any trouble… let me know."

"But how do I even find you?" she asked with alarm. "I haven't even seen you since I first got here."

"Talk to Officer Hawkins or Cage," he replied. "They work on your block. Just tell them you need me."

"Ok." She sat up a little. "Thank you."

"Thanks for what?" he nearly snapped. "Don't thank me. I'm doing my job. Try not to get yourself beat up again." He turned to leave, hating his own attitude as he did. He didn't want to be mean to this woman who had just been through so much but he knew he had to. He didn't have time for emotions. He had to be hard on her. It was his job to control them and try to turn them around. He left AJ curled up in her bed, forcing himself not to look back.

* * *

"So why did you stay?" Christian asked as he closed his locker.

"Huh?" Punk asked, storing his uniform shirt in his own locker and closing it.

"You heard me," Christian replied calmly. "I had to fill out all of those incident reports all by myself, so I may as well get the full story as why you stayed at medical with the injured inmate instead of taking your share of the damn paperwork."

Punk sighed. "I don't know," he said. "I felt bad. Beth is a bitch and this isn't the first newbie she's beat down for no reason." He paused. "Although I did find out there's a reason."

"What's that?" Christian asked.

"Randy," he answered. "Apparently that fucker is still messing around with Beth. But he's been very noticeably staring at AJ… and I guess Beth didn't like that."

"Fuck, that's still going on?" Christian shook his head as he sat down on the bench. "That's so wrong. He's such a slimy bastard. Remind me again why he's getting away with something so blatantly illegal that he should be fucking fired for?"

"You know why," Punk intoned. "He's the warden's fucking pet. That's why he gets paid more than I do but works less than you do. Vince doesn't care what he does so he gets away with everything."

"It's fucked up," Christian said with a groan. "If he really goes after this new girl, you know she's not going to be able to throw him off. He'll beat her bad if she even tries."

"And there's nothing we can do about it," Punk muttered. "You know what, whatever. It's not my damn problem. I'm just going to do my drop."

Christian turned to him with a sideways glance. "Do you really think that?" he asked.

"It doesn't matter," Punk replied and got up to leave.

* * *

"So I hear Beth got 3 months in solitary thanks to that fight," Natalya announced when AJ was returned from the medical wing to her cell by Officer Ryder.

"That wasn't a fight it was a slaughter," AJ muttered, sitting down on the edge of Natalya's bunk. "You should see the bruises under my jumpsuit."

"Well you might be in for more," Natalya informed her. "Everyone knows you blabbed to Punk, someone else in medical overheard you talking… and word travels faster than you would think around here. Beth's cell mate Eve is out to get you now. They're best friends."

"Great!" AJ groaned, slamming her fist against the wall before remembering her bruised wrist. "Ow. I knew I never should have said anything. But he told me I would have gotten solitary!"

"He was bluffing," Natalya informed her. "I should have told you that. The guards bluff like that all the time to get you to tell them things you don't want to."

"That bastard!" AJ cried. "I can't believe that! So I could have just kept quiet right? Now I'm going to get it… all because he wanted a stupid story out of me…"

To AJ's surprise, Natalya actually laughed. "I haven't seen this feisty side of you yet," she said. "You've been acting like a terrified little kitten up until now. What changed?"

"I got fucked over," AJ growled intensely. There was no holding back now. After being beaten like a mule and surviving, she couldn't be a silent ghost anymore. She had to speak up. "I can't believe this. He knows I was going to be in for it big time with other people if I told but he didn't care! The bastard!"

"That's the attitude you're going to need if you want to survive in here," Natalya told her. "You need to be that little spitfire." She smirked. "You know, maybe you're not the wimp I pegged you to be when you first got here. You and I just might get along after all."

But AJ wasn't focused on making her first friend in prison. Her thoughts were directed straight toward that asshole, that _Punk _who knowingly put a target on her back. This wasn't over. No, not yet.


	4. Chapter 4

Because of the recent scuffle in the cafeteria the staff was placed on high alert for the next few weeks. For Punk that meant coming out of his office and patrolling the cell blocks and the recreation yard more frequently than he normally did much to the amusement of his fellow officers.

"So you're back on the beat with us," Curt teased him one morning.

"The beat?" Punk echoed with a laugh. "Come on Hawkins we aren't actual cops. We're just prison guards. We get laughed at during the annual conventions."

"We don't get invited to the annual conventions," Curt pointed out.

"That's exactly my point."

They were headed out to patrol the recreation yard as cell block C was being released onto it. It wasn't exactly Punk's favorite cell block as it contained that new slimy little fish, AJ. He hadn't heard much from that little girl since he wormed a confession out of her a couple of weeks ago. He knew what ramifications that confession would hold- ratting out your fellow inmates didn't exactly gain you any popularity points. In fact it would most likely gain you some enemies. But Punk didn't care. The inmates' social hierarchy wasn't of his concern. His concern was that they all paid their debt to society while obeying his strict rules. As long as they didn't tear each other to shreds he didn't care if every single one of them decided to hate on that shy little murderer who accidentally gave him doe eyes while semi conscious after her fight.

"So what did you think of the Mets game?" Curt asked as they hit the pavement scanning the yard full of inmates milling around. They were supposed to be looking for any suspicious activity.

"The Mets suck," Punk replied coolly.

"Not as much as the Cubs!" Curt shot back.

"Hey we're going to make a comeback," Punk warned. "Just watch!"

"Sure," Curt said with a sly grin. "Because they always do right?"

"You have so little faith sometimes Hawkins. But don't worry. We're going to kick your ass!" He glanced out at the crowd of orange jumpsuits. They were partaking in all the usual rec activities. Some were playing basketball or running around but most were simply talking and walking around as they enjoyed the fresh air and sunlight. But he quickly zeroed in on one woman who split off from the rest, walking in a wayward pattern by herself.

"That looks weird," Punk said curiously, eyes following the figure. "Is that… Mendez?"

"I think so," Curt replied. "Want to go check on her?"

"Might as well." They started heading in her direction, catching up with her quickly near the fence. "AJ!" he said, sticking his hand out. As soon as it landed on her shoulder she whirled around and her hand came whizzing toward his face. She struck his cheek so sharply the force sent him reeling back a little, he had to catch himself on Curt's arm to keep from falling. As soon as he caught his balance he felt a raging fury surge within him. Had an inmate just actually had the nerve to physically strike him? This woman, practically a fucking little girl had the nerve to turn around and hit him, for no reason even? There was definitely going to be a punishment for this… A low angry growl rumbled from his throat. He saw fear instantly flit to her face as his narrowed eyes locked on hers.

"You're in deep shit now," Punk snapped, grabbing her roughly by the arm.

* * *

AJ had been staying outwardly firm over the past few weeks. With her new outlook presented to Natalya she finally had people to sit with in the cafeteria, joining her cellmate along with several other women at a table. She no longer felt quite as alone which was good but she knew she had a target on her back, all thanks to Punk forcing a story out of her. This became apparent only a few days after the fight broke out, again in the cafeteria as she headed out of the line with her tray.

"So I heard you ratted to the guards," growled a tall tan brunette.

"Who are you?" AJ snapped in reply even as her heart skipped a beat. She had to learn how to keep this newfound bravery of hers in check somehow.

"I'm Eve," the woman spat. "You got my best friend thrown in solitary for 3 months because you couldn't keep your damn mouth shut."

"She couldn't keep her damn fists to herself!" AJ cried. "It was pretty open and shut no matter what I said! She jumped on me and took me down for no reason. It's her own fault not mine!"

"You better watch your back bitch," Eve hissed. "That's not how we play around here. You're supposed to keep your lips shut no matter what but you just can't obey those rules can you? So watch out for yourself new girl. You won't even see me coming when me and my girls come after you."

"Well fine then!" AJ shot back, internally shocked at her own intensity. Something in her had definitely changed in these past several weeks. "I'll be waiting for you!"

Even Natalya was surprised at AJ's bravado as she came to join her cell mate and others at their table. "You were right this girl is a little spitfire huh!" said Maria, a friend of Natalya's who was once a high profile car thief.

"Maybe but she's an idiot to boot," Kelly added. Her crime was prostitution. "She's egging Eve on like that. I won't be surprised if she gets it even worse now."

"What do I care?" AJ muttered poking listlessly at her mashed potatoes. "I'm going to be in here for the next 25 years." Maybe she would get lucky and Eve would kill her and take her out of this misery.

"Careful you're breaking one of Punk's rules!" Maria laughed.

"_Punk_," AJ spat with disgust. "Fuck him. He's the reason I'm in this mess." If only he could have left well enough alone she would have been able to take her beating and move on. She held nothing for contempt for that cocky guard who didn't care about the safety of his inmates. The other women whistled at her for her statement.

"Just be careful about who you look at then," Kelly said. "Now that Beth is in solitary Orton will be looking for a new pick now." She winked. "Maybe it will be me."

AJ just shivered. She didn't even know what Kelly was talking about and as of now she didn't really care. But by rec time later that day she was incredibly on edge. She couldn't stay in one place with the rest of the girls who were milling around a bench and ended up walking the whole length of the field alone. She tried to keep her shoulders from shuddering as she walked but it was almost impossible. As proud as she was of herself for standing up to Eve earlier and forcing herself to be brave she knew speaking out like that was going to have consequences. She had to keep her wits about her and stay on alert… she had to know everything that was going on around her at all times….

When a hand landed on her shoulder she tensed. She didn't even hear the voice of whoever was behind her even though she was sure they said something, she just reacted instantly, sure whoever it was meant her harm. She spun around on her heel, her hand cocked back to deliver a vicious slap right into the cheek of the person she was positive was trying to deal even greater damage to her. Her heart was pounding wildly as she defended herself.

But when her haze cleared and she could actually see who she had just attacked she realized she wasn't defending herself at all. Not only had she just blatantly slapped a _guard _across the face, she saw quickly it wasn't just any guard. The guard she just struck was the one she was denouncing angrily hours earlier.

"You're in deep shit now," Punk snapped, seizing her by the arm. His cold green eyes were on fire now, burning into hers with such an intensity she thought she could actually feel his anger bubbling on her skin. She could certainly feel his fingernails digging into her arm.

"I'm so sorry," AJ blurted out. "I didn't know… I didn't mean to… I…" Tears were already springing to her eyes. She knew she'd just dug herself a deep hole.

Punk didn't even answer. "You got the yard?" he asked Curt, not even glancing at him. "_Inmate Mendez _here needs to learn the consequences of hitting an officer."

"Yeah sure," Curt answered with a nod, but even he looked nervous. "I've got it."

"Good." Punk yanked AJ away, leading her rapidly toward the building.

"I-I'm sorry," AJ squeaked again, her previous bravery gone now as Punk dragged her through various hallways and corridors of the prison. "Lieutenant Brooks please… I didn't mean to… I-I thought you were someone else… please don't-"

"I don't want to hear it," Punk snapped.

She fell silent then, biting her bottom lip nervously as he jerked her about like a rag doll until they reached a door with a name plaque on it that read 'Lieutenant Brooks'. He pulled his key ring out and shoved one of the keys into the lock, turning the door knob with a sharp jerk and yanking it open. He pulled AJ inside and locked the door behind them.

"I-" she began.

"Shut the fuck up!" Punk shouted. "You speak when spoken to understand? Now fucking listen to me! What the fuck were you thinking when you hit you me? Answer me!"

"I-I-I w-wasn't trying to hit you," she stammered, fighting back more tears. "I-I thought it was Eve! Or someone else! They-they said they were going to hurt me and-"

"I don't care!" he growled. He circled around his desk and started walking towards her causing her to automatically back up against the wall. "Do you have any fucking idea what you just did? You acted without thinking and _slapped a guard in the face_! I'm a lieutenant AJ. Do you know what that means? I'm one step below the captain and 2 steps below the warden! I could throw you in solitary for the rest of the fucking year if I wanted with your best friend Beth! I could add 5 years to your sentence!"

"No please don't!" AJ begged. "Don't, please!" She was completely backed up against the wall now and he was boring over her, his face only inches from hers. She couldn't imagine being stuck in here for 30 whole years or being stuck with the person in this building who hated her most. But the person she was deathly afraid of now was standing right over her.

"You think just begging me is going to get you out of this?" he growled. "You think I can just let this go after you make me look like a fucking fool in front of inmates and guards I'm supposed to fucking supervise? Who the fuck do you think you are Mendez?"

"I didn't mean to!" she cried. "I was- I was just trying to defend myself… so many people are mad at me for telling on Beth because you made me! I didn't mean to I just didn't want to get hurt again!" She was sobbing now, tears flowing freely and dripping down her cheeks.

If anything he looked even more furious now… maybe because he was realizing this was his fault in the first place. When his arm cocked back she was sure his fist was headed straight for her. She was completely paralyzed with fear with her arms locked at her sides. She looked up at him pleadingly, the same glassy brown eyes staring up at him from his own arms week ago. She braced herself for impact and the powerful fist that was going to strike her, her eyes slamming shut. But instead of impact she heard a loud bang next to her, the wall shaking behind her back. When she opened her eyes she saw his fist was plunged deep into the drywall less than an inch from the side of her head.

"You're going to go back to the yard," he hissed at her dangerously. "You're not going to say a fucking word about went on in here understand? If you do I swear you'll be back in here and you won't fucking like it got it?" He grabbed his radio. "Hawkins! I need you in here to get Mendez back to the yard."

Curt appeared a few moments later, taking AJ lightly by the other arm (the arm Punk had taken her by earlier was now purple with bruises) and leading her out of the office. She was dumbfounded into silence the whole way back to the yard.

Punk slammed and locked the door behind them, uncomfortably stretching the fingers of his now injured hand. He was still infuriated- at AJ, at himself and at the fact that he was now angrier at himself then the damn inmate. As much as he hated to admit it she was right, he backed her into a corner by dragging that confession out… but it was his job. It was his job to punish and rehabilitate these stains on society. But he didn't have to be a monster like Randy. That was why he couldn't bring himself to hit her back even if she may have deserved it for showing him up on the yard… but he wasn't going to let her skate by anymore. He was the guard, and she was the inmate. He would not be made a fool of.


	5. Chapter 5

_"So are you bored now that your main bitch is in solitary?" Officer Rhodes asked._

_Randy shrugged. "I was getting bored of her anyway," he replied. "Looking for someone new."_

_"Oh yeah?" Cody grinned. "Who were you thinking of?"_

_"Maybe one of those new girls," Randy answered. "Like Mendez. She's the one Beth beat up."_

_"Mendez?" Cody whistled. "That's one hot little piece of ass."_

_Randy smirked in reply. "Yeah. And she's in for 25 years too so she'll be real eager to please I bet. I don't think it will be hard to… set her straight."_

_"You're one crazy bastard Orton," Cody laughed. "But shit just go for it man."_

_A devious smile came over Randy's face as he closed his locker. "I will."_

* * *

Punk was brooding angrily for days about his confrontation with AJ, and was worse is that he didn't even know who he was angrier at now. But he was a man. He didn't deal with what he was feeling in any sort of logical way. He couldn't simply review what was going on and handle it because that would be admitting he was wrong and it was his fault. So instead he took his anger out on the nearest person who was the most vulnerable: AJ.

He started coming out of his office a lot more now, mostly when her cell block was in the cafeteria or the yard. He would hound her constantly, often embarrassingly to the point where AJ was left crying on the floor much to the amusement of the other inmates. Just that morning during breakfast he grabbed a milk carton from the food line, popping it open and drinking about a third of it in one sip. Then he spiked it to the tile floor. The small container split open instantly the rest of the milk spreading out everywhere. "Hey Mendez!" he called looking down at the mess. "Come over here."

AJ jumped up from her table and slid past Natalya and the others to get to Punk, eager not to anger him any further than she had a few days ago. "Y-yes Officer Brooks?" she stammered quietly.

"Clean this up," he ordered pointing down at the puddle of milk.

She looked at him confused. "I… I don't have a mop or a rag," she replied.

"I didn't ask you if you had a mop or a rag," he said coldly. "I told you to clean it up."

"But I don't have anything to clean it up with!" she protested.

"I don't care!" he snapped both his voice and temper rising. "Get the fuck down there and start cleaning this up before I dock your inmate account!"

AJ's lower lip trembled as she slowly lowered herself onto her hands and knees. Did he really expect her to mop up this mess with her hands? She looked up at him uncertainly but his blank expression offered no instructions. With a gulp she realized she had no other option but to use what she was wearing. She rolled down the sleeves of her jumpsuit and began to soak up the liquid with it.

"There you go," Punk hissed. "Use your hands. That's a good working girl." He tapped at her leg with the edge of his boot which only managed to push her over the edge of tears. She sobbed shamefully as she cleaned up his mess, leaving her sleeves sopping wet. "Good. Now get your ass back to your table and finish your meal inmate." He turned to walk back to the front of the room, where an astonished Curt and Christian stood in awe of Punk's actions. AJ could only drag herself up from the floor, still crying.

"Punk what the fuck was that?" Orton demanded as he approached the group of guards.

Punk merely blinked at him. "What was what?" he asked.

Randy scowled. "You know what I mean," he replied. "That was bullshit what you just pulled Punk. What was that for anyway, making her get on her hands and knees and clean?"

Punk rolled his eyes; Randy was actually telling him he was doing something wrong. "You haven't been around this girl," he said. "She's a troublemaker Randy. Got into that fight with Beth. And then she turns around and fucking slaps me in the face! I'm not out of line."

"Troublemaker huh?" Randy muttered. He had to force himself not to smirk… he liked troublemakers. He wore a scowl again. "Whatever Punk. Sometimes I don't think you should have power around here." He left the three of them at the front of the room and went to an almost empty table, where AJ had separated herself from her 'friends' (if that's even what they were) to cry alone.

"Hey," Randy said laying a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "Still soaked?"

AJ looked up at him in surprise. "Y-yes," she whispered fearfully.

"Alright. Come on, I'll take you back to your cell so you can change," he said.

"Laundry day isn't until tomorrow," she reminded him. "This is my only clean jumpsuit."

Randy smiled. "I think I can fix that." He led her out of the cafeteria and into a section of the prison AJ had never been before, the laundry room. The industrial washers and dryers were huge and took up most of the room but this early in the day there were no inmates working so they were alone. He walked over to a bank of lockers and opened one. "What size are you?"

She stared back at him, still stunned that this guard who she had previously only seen staring at her from across the yard or cell block was suddenly being so nice and helpful to her. Wasn't this who Beth told her to stay away from? Shaking her head quickly she knew she had to answer him. "I-I'm the smallest one," she nearly whispered. He nodded and retrieved the corresponding jumpsuit, tossing it to her. She fumbled to catch it, grabbing the edge of the rough fabric just before it hit the ground.

"You can change in here," Randy told her.

She glanced around the room in confusion. There was nowhere around this room where she could change in private. "Where?" she asked quietly.

"Anywhere," he replied cryptically. "Don't worry. I'll turn around." As if to prove his statement he began to turn his back to her. Reassured she turned away as well and began unzipping her dirty jumpsuit. But Randy didn't look away. He was looking over his shoulder at her, grinning devilishly as the jumpsuit hit the floor and her perfect, golden tanned body was on almost full display for him. The thin prison provided undergarments left little to the imagination and he drank in the image of her, eager at the thought of being able to taste all of that sometime soon. Satisfied with what he saw he looked away just as she was pulling up her clean jumpsuit.

AJ was completely unaware of Randy's peeping. She smiled genuinely as she turned around. "All done," she announced. "Thank you so much Officer Orton."

"No problem," he replied with a grin. "It's my job."

She was silent again as he escorted her back to the cafeteria, her mind now a jumbled mess. Did this mean guards really weren't the enemy? Were Natalya and the others wrong? The only thing she knew for sure at this point was that her hatred for Punk was growing and growing.

* * *

"I think you fucked up today Punk," Christian said finally as he and Punk both reached the parking lot after their shifts were over. He had been holding this in all day and after talking it over with Curt they both decided one of them should approach their boss. A coin flip chose Christian.

"What do you mean?" Punk asked with a frown.

Christian sighed, leaning against his car. "You know what I mean," he replied. "With inmate Mendez today. Making that stupid mess on purpose just so she would have to clean up after you. That was ridiculous. You humiliated the hell out of her man."

"So?" Punk snapped. "She slap-"

"I know she hit you," Christian interrupted pointedly, "but it was an accident. A stupid accident but an accident because she's had a target on her back since she got here and she's scared of getting her ass kicked again. She wasn't trying to make you look like an ass on purpose. She's just a scared little girl practically and you're taking your anger out on her and humiliating her." He paused. "Let me put it this way. When _Orton _has to tell you that you've gone too far then you know you're fucking up." Shaking his head he got into his car and left a speechless Punk alone.

Punk headed to his own car and got in without turning it on. Leaning against the steering wheel he roughly ran his fingers through his hair, eyes widened. As much as he hated to admit it Christian was right. He crossed a major line today by humiliating and dehumanizing her. This young woman was already sentenced to 25 years to life and was still recovering from her first undeserved beating. Why did he have to make her life any harder than it already was?

Grumbling to himself he started his car and began the drive home. He knew he wouldn't able to sleep tonight would likely be laying awake torturing himself with thoughts of how badly he wronged this woman. But she was a prisoner. He was an inmate. How was he supposed to make it up to someone in a situation like that? The short answer was the he couldn't. He could only hate himself for being such a monster to her and hope the opportunity to redeem himself would present itself.


	6. Chapter 6

AJ was largely feeling numb for the rest of the day. She didn't know what to think or feel. First Punk humiliated her and made her feel less than human, less than dirt really as he stood over her and forced her to clean up spilled milk with her sleeves, and then Officer Orton (who she had previously been warned about) came to her rescue. Did that mean she would be safe from Punk now because Orton was watching out for her? She had no idea what any of it meant and it scared her.

"Looks like someone has a new friend," Natalya teased that night after their free time was over and they were returned to their cells just before lights out.

AJ's mind was still a little fuzzy. "Huh?" she murmured as she went to climb the ladder to her bunk.

"You know I'm talking about Randy," Natalya replied getting off her bunk so she could talk face to face with AJ. "Officer Orton. He practically scraped you up off the floor."

"No he didn't," AJ muttered back with a scowl. "I got up by myself. Then he took me to get a clean jumpsuit in the laundry room because laundry day isn't until tomorrow."

"Oh so that's all that happened," Natalya said with a sly grin leaning back against the wall.

AJ scooted forward so her legs were dangling off her bunk. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"Are you really so clueless still?" Natalya laughed. "Come on. We were even talking about it at lunch a few days ago. But I guess you didn't understand… but that's ok, you're young and still new. Orton isn't… a normal guard. He likes pretty girls sweetie. He likes them a lot. And he's not bad looking himself either so he's never had trouble convincing anyone to go with him. He ends up treating them better too. Favors and stuff while he's with them. But as soon as he's done with them he acts like they don't exist."

As Natalya spoke AJ was slowly working the details out in her head. But the conclusion she came to sounded almost too crazy. "Are you telling me… he sleeps with inmates?" she asked in disbelief.

Natalya laughed again. "Yeah that's what I'm telling you! That's why Beth beat the shit out of you. She was Randy's little piece for awhile and I guess she got upset when she saw him looking at you."

But AJ could only shake her head. "Are you sure?" she asked. "I mean I know the guards aren't angels…" That much was apparent just from the way Punk was treating her. "But I can't believe someone who's actually employed to enforce the law would do something like that."

"Is it really so hard to believe?" Natalya asked. "You've seen these guys. They're asshole. Hell the one with the most charming smile when he's in a good mood made you use your own body as a mop today!"

AJ retracted her legs and curled them against her chest. As much sense as Natalya made the little part of her that still clung to the hope of goodness in this world. She wanted so badly to believe her cell mate was just trying to get a rise out of her and Officer Orton was a good person who genuinely wanted to help to rehabilitate the inmates and not just punish them.

But the very next night a little while after lights out she was roused from her drowsy (but not quite asleep as she still had a lot of trouble falling asleep in prison) state by the sound of her cell door opening. "Inmate Mendez," a man called softly. "Front and center."

AJ immediately slid out of her bunk and went to the front of the cell not wanting to get in trouble for disobeying. "O-Officer Orton," she stammered sleepily. "What's going on?"

"There's some paperwork you need to sign regarding your incident several weeks ago," Randy replied. "It was never taken care of and that needs to happen. Please come with me."

She allowed him to lead him past the rows of cells full of sleeping inmates for awhile. But as they turned into another hallway and her sleepy daze began to clear a thought occurred to her. "Why do I need to sign paperwork at night?" she asked. "Isn't that something that would have to happen during the day?"

"Don't worry," he replied coolly, tightening his grip on her arm ever so slightly.

But now she was on full alert. Why did he come to get her at night and why would he be the one to talk to her about paperwork? He wasn't the guard who witnessed the fight and took her to the medical wing… that was Punk. Nothing about this seemed right. "Are you sure?" she whispered uncertainly.

Randy didn't answer her as he led her down another series of hallways to another part of the building. A small smile was forming on his face. There were no cameras in the administrative area where the higher ranking officers had their own offices… and none of them would be here late at night. Finally he stopped and turned her back to the wall, leaning over her. "I told you not to worry about it," he murmured.

It instantly became clear to her what all of this was about. Natalya was ever so horrifyingly right. "Please don't hurt me," she whispered. She tried to move but she felt frozen suddenly as though the icy blue eyes that were looking her up and down had locked her in place.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said with a slight smile. "I just want to get to know you." He lifted one of his hands and brushed it slowly against her cheek, an action that in other circumstances would have been a gesture of love and kindness but right now it terrified her. His other hand descended on her neck and slowly down to the front zipper on her jumpsuit.

"Don't!" she begged. "Please!"

"What's the matter?" he whispered in her ear, sliding his hand down the front of her jumpsuit. "I'm a nice guy AJ. I'll be gentle if you want me to I promise." As soon as his lips touch her cheek she let out a yelp, survival instincts taking over now. She put her hands on his chest to try to shove him away but he grabbed her hands, yanking them down to her sides.

"This is happening whether you like it or not," Randy growled. "I can be nice if you let me but if you don't then you're not going to like me AJ."

* * *

Punk sighed as he set the forms in front of him aside and pulled out another stack to work on. If it was one thing he hated about this job it was the paperwork, and since he had taken lately to filling his shifts with opportunities to harass AJ he was backed up. That was why he was still here past his shift, filling out incident reports and employee review sheets and form after form after form. With a groan he rubbed his eyes, feeling a headache forming. It was a good thing Christian talked some sense into him the other day. Even if he never got the chance to apologize to the new young inmate for treating her so terribly at least not taking time out of his day to give her a hard time would ensure he would never be so behind on paperwork again.

As he picked up his pen to scrawl his name at the bottom of another form he heard a yelp from somewhere outside his office. Dropping his pen he stood up immediately. Anyone in the administrative area of the building should have left hours ago. Who was still here? "Hello?" he called as he opened his door. He glanced back and forth down the dimly lit hallway noticing on his right a couple of huddled figures a ways down, and again heard the yelp. "Hey!" He ran toward them and as he got closer he could now easily make out that it was Randy… standing over AJ.

"Stop!" he heard her cry.

"Randy what the fuck!" Punk yelled. He grabbed his fellow officer by the shoulders and yanked him back. Because Randy was still holding onto AJ this sent her crashing the floor.

"Back off!" Randy growled shoving him back.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Punk demanded.

"None of your concern," Randy spat. "You're not even supposed to be here."

"Well it's a damn good thing I am because there's no fucking way I'm letting you assault an inmate in front of me!" Punk snapped. "I know what you're like Randy and I'm not letting this happen anymore."

"Yeah?" Randy scoffed. "What are you going to do Punk? Write me up? Tell on me to the big bad warden? Go ahead. You know he doesn't care."

"That doesn't mean you get to disobey me," Punk hissed. "I am your superior and you will fucking obey a direct order Orton. Stay the fuck away from Mendez."

Randy laughed. "Why should I, you want her?" he asked with a grin.

"You should because I want you to stay the fuck away from her," Punk growled. "Go play your shitty games on someone else. She said no, she said stop, I heard it. So walk away before I hurt you."

Randy just shook his head and looked down at AJ, who was huddled in a shivering mass on the floor against the wall. "Fine," he said. "I like the leggy blondes better anyway." He smirked as he turned around, whistling as he walked away and turned the corner leaving them alone.

Punk bent down to gather AJ up off the floor. "Are you ok?" he asked as he helped her up slowly and carefully in case she was injured. "Did he hurt you?"

She was completely still in his arms for a moment before finally looking up at him. "He tried to rape me," she whispered, her eyes wide but completely devoid of any spark.

He bit his lip. "Come on," he said gently. "Come into my office." He led her down the hall and pulled out the chair in front of his desk for her. "I'll get you some coffee." He hurried into the break room where he'd left a pot still brewing and poured a cup before hastily adding cream and sugar, not knowing how she actually took her coffee. When he returned she was sitting curled up in the chair with her knees pulled up to her chest. "I didn't know how you like it so I just added everything."

She nodded and timidly accepted the cup, blowing across the surface of the liquid before taking a small sip. The warmth felt good and soothing to her throat. "Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked after another awkward silence. "You hate me."

He sighed. "I'm an asshole," he said. "I know that. What I did yesterday was really fucked up and it took an even bigger asshole like Randy to show me that. I'm sorry." He pressed his index fingers against his temples for a moment. "This may even be my fault. If I hadn't pulled that stunt with the milk he never would have taken you out of the cafeteria and maybe he wouldn't have set his sights on you…"

She shook her head. She was over throwing blame, she just wanted to forget. "It's ok."

"It's not," he insisted. "I'm a prison guard not a plantation overseer. It's not my job to make your life shitty. I'm supposed to make sure you follow the rules and pay your debt to society not pretty much ensure the scummiest guard in this place tries to take advantage of you." He paused as he studied the fragile young woman before him… he felt terrible but he had to remind himself, she was a convicted murderer. But did that mean she deserved what almost just happened to her? No. With another sigh he glanced around his desk as though something would jump out at him, a way to make it up to her. As his gaze traveled over one of the drawers an idea came to him. "Hey, do you draw? Write at all?"

She glanced up at him suspiciously over her coffee cup. "I sketch a little," she replied. "Why?"

He opened the drawer and took out a small black notebook and a few pens. "Here," he said. "Take these. It's not much but I don't think you have anything in your commissary account so you can't really buy anything… maybe this will help you get your mind off things."

Her hands carefully crept across the desk to take the notebook and pens. "Thank you," she muttered, flipping through the stark white blank pages.

"Alright," he said standing up. "This has been awkward and inappropriate enough. Finish up your coffee and I'll take you back to your cell." They were both silent as he escorted her back. She watched him with lifeless eyes as he locked the door… and in that moment he promised himself he would protect this girl.


	7. Chapter 7

"Vince this is bullshit!" Punk snapped. "I'm not a patrol boy anymore, I'm a lieutenant!"

"That doesn't mean you're above taking regular shifts like the rest of the boys," the warden replied calmly in his deep, gravelly voice.

"If I'm taking regular shifts now too that means I have to patrol _and _oversee the rest of the guards," Punk complained. "I'll get backed up on my paperwork. I'll be here for hours."

"Are you trying to tell me you can't handle your job Lieutenant Brooks?" Vince asked stiffly.

"Of course I can do my job," Punk snapped. He wasn't about let anyone undercut him, not even his boss. "But I know exactly what this is about. Randy came and tattled on me like the little bitch he is didn't he? All because, crazy me, I don't want him to rape one of our inmates!"

"I don't know anything about that," Vince replied coldly but Punk knew it was a blatant lie. "Quit your whining Punk. You have work to do and if you can't handle your job then I'll find someone who can." He smirked. "Perhaps Officer Orton is due for a promotion you think?"

Punk didn't answer, he merely snorted in disgust before storming out of Warden McMahon's office and slamming the door behind him. "Well that sounds like it went well," Curt said as he stood up and hurried to walk beside Punk who was already traveling briskly down the hallway.

"He's a fucking asshole," Punk growled. "So is Randy. All over a damn girl who's a fucking inmate! Fuck me if I'll do anything nice for anyone ever again." But both he and Curt knew that wasn't really true. Underneath Punk's rough exterior was a man who actually cared whether he wanted to admit it or not.

"Screw both of them," Curt said. "You did a good thing."

"For a convicted murderer!" Punk blurted out.

"So?" Curt asked with a shrug. "That doesn't take away from saving her from being assaulted."

"I was just doing my job." Punk looked down. "Well let's go get on patrol then since I can't do my actual job. I'm going to be here till 9 or 10 every damn night catching up on paperwork." He and Curt bumped fists before splitting up to start their respective shifts.

* * *

AJ was sitting at one of the tables on the yard with her new notebook. She'd mostly kept quiet and to herself since Randy stole her from her cell the night before. Natalya hadn't even noticed when she left or when she came back, most of the women who had been in prison for a few years slept like rocks now. But she kept quiet the next morning at breakfast and no one at their table in the cafeteria even noticed she hadn't said a word. It didn't matter to her though. It wasn't like any of them really cared and she had no desire to tell them about what happened with Randy… or Punk. Punk confused her. For weeks he was cruel and mean to her and the suddenly he saved her and gave her this gift? What did any of it mean? She sighed heavily rubbing her forehead anxiously.

She sat now on the uncomfortable metal bench with the notebook out in front of her, staring at the blank page. What would she draw? She used to sketch all the time. Her walls at home (well not anymore; she knew her parents had likely sold her apartment by now) were covered in her artwork, paintings and drawings in various types of artistic styles. But when she closed her eyes only images of horror and pain were before her, memories of seeing Rosa's body in the parking lot with her co workers and being dragged away by police several days later, the awful trial and being thrown into prison. And then being pulled out of her cell by Randy and shoved against the wall…

_Spiderman, _she thought suddenly. _I'll draw Spiderman._

She popped off the cap of the pen and started sketching. At first there were just rough lines and circles but they quickly began forming a very recognizable character. She hadn't picked up a pen or pencil and started drawing anything in such a long time… it felt good to putting something on paper again. She was so into the drawing she didn't even realize someone was standing behind her glancing over her shoulder. "Hey is that Spiderman?" She shrieked and jumped up, clutching the notebook as she turned around. Relief spread over her face as she saw it was only Punk. "Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's ok," she replied quietly, sitting back down and putting her notebook down again. Punk leaned over her shoulder studying the drawing with genuine interest. Spiderman was perched on the ledge of tall building shooting a web out onto the rest of the page.

"This is really good," he said honestly. "Amazing actually."

She couldn't help but chuckle. "Really?" she asked.

He nodded in earnest. "I didn't know you were into this kind of stuff," he said.

"Like what, nerdy stuff?" she asked and he nodded. "Yeah. I'm actually a huge nerd. I had a big comic collection at home and my favorite jacket is the one with Wonder Woman on it that I've had forever." She looked down sadly. "But all of that is probably gone now."

To her surprise he actually laughed. "I never thought of you for a nerd," he said. "Girls that look like you usually aren't. But most people would never guess I am either."

"You? Really?" She shook her head. "No way."

"Yes way. Look what I've got on my shoulder." He rolled up one of his sleeves and she saw that his tattoos went all the way up his arms too. She spotted a big one on his shoulder and laughed.

"No way!" she exclaimed. "That's the Cobra logo!"

He smiled. "You should see my comic collection. It's almost embarrassing." Then he straightened up suddenly. He shouldn't be having this conversation with an inmate. It was inappropriate. "Alright Mendez. I need to get going. I'll see you around." He shook his head to himself as he turned to patrol the rest of the yard. Talking to an inmate that way made her seem… human. Like any other person he could meet in a public park or on the street. She wasn't any other person, she was a convicted murderer and she was here for a reason. He was needlessly cruel to her and had to find a way to apologize, saving her from a ruthless predator and gifting her that notebook seemed to make up for it right? That was all this had to be and now he had to deal with repercussions from his boss for doing that. Suddenly in a soured mood again he turned the corner around the field to start his patrol again.

* * *

Later that night Punk was just getting home around 10:30 PM. He grumbled to himself as he walked through the door of his apartment. He should have been home hours ago, his normal shifts being 7 AM to 7 PM. But as he expected he had to catch up on his paperwork and wasn't even able to leave the prison until 10. Randy even walked by his office snickering, asking Punk in a sarcastic voice why he was still here after his shift again. To prevent himself from choking the bastard out Punk merely slammed his door shut and locked it before putting his pen to the paper again.

He kicked off his boots then peeled his shirt off and hung it on the edge of the couch as he sat down. He was glad at least it was Thursday, he only had one more day of this before the weekend. At least Vince couldn't make him work weekend shifts without demoting him, but with a sigh he wondered if that was the next hurdle on the horizon the asshole warden would put up for him. But for now he didn't want to think of any of that, he really just wanted to relax. He lay back on the couch and grabbed the TV remote. As he flipped through the channels he caught a glimpse of one shot that made him go back. It was on the court TV channel and a very familiar face was on the screen. His eyes widened as he went back to the channel. Yes that was definitely AJ's face on his screen, sitting at the front of a court room crying. He checked the TV guide and saw this was a dramatic TV special about her case and conviction.

He'd meant to only spend a few minutes relaxing before showering and going to bed but for the next hour and a half he found himself glued to the television. He followed AJ's story from beginning to end and as it went from the story of her interrogation to her arrest and then the trial Punk felt incredibly unsettled. Something about this didn't seem right. He'd interacted with AJ enough times to know that this girl wasn't a thief, and even if she was he knew she didn't start fights… she never even fought back against Beth. Even witnesses on this TV special admitted the murdered stripper, Rosa, had been the one to begin shoving AJ. She'd had to be pulled off the much smaller woman by security. Somehow he didn't think AJ would have stalked Rosa in the parking lot and stabbed her out of revenge. She was a timid girl, and while she could speak up when she needed to she just wasn't the type to attack unprovoked.

The physical evidence didn't seem right either. They mentioned the fingerprints on the knife handle were pristine and perfect, not at all smudged as one would expect them to be when the object being handled was in motion. The hairs found in Rosa's hand didn't have roots on them either, making it seem like they weren't yanked directly out of AJ's head. No, something wasn't adding up here and the more he watched the more unsettled he was. He needed to talk to someone about this… maybe her lawyer. What was his name? "David Otunga," he muttered to himself as he scribbled the name down on a pad of paper on his coffee table. He was going to meet with this lawyer and get to the bottom of this. Maybe this girl was more innocent then he thought.


	8. Chapter 8

It took AJ only 5 days to completely fill up her new sketchbook with a variety of drawings. She never thought something like this would work but being able to pour her thoughts and feelings onto paper instead made those few days fly by faster than she ever expected they could. She was able to ignore any snide remarks made by inmates around her or any stares from any guards, completely absorbed in creating her own masterpieces instead. But by Tuesday when she reached the last page she was incredibly dismayed. She had no money (which was usually sent by friends or family members but none of hers had been in contact with her since her arrest and eventual conviction) in her prison account to buy another book. What was she supposed to do now? With nothing to draw it seemed like the hours dragged on even more slowly than before. She thought about trying to find Punk and ask him for another one but she immediately nixed that idea. He was a guard and she was just an inmate. He didn't owe her anything and she thought it would be out of line to even ask.

But later in the afternoon as she was sitting at the edge of the table in their cell block where Natalya and a few others were playing cards, flipping listlessly through her completely filled sketchbook when she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Hey," Punk said. "I need you to come with me to my office." A little surprised she nodded quickly collecting her book as she stood up to follow him. He hung onto her arm lightly as he led her down to the administrative area of the prison. She sat down in front of his desk resisting the urge to curl her legs up protectively as she usually did. But she had to wonder what all of this was about and what he could possibly want.

"How have you been doing the past few days?" Punk asked as he took his own seat.

"Oh so much better!" AJ exclaimed happily. "I haven't stopped drawing since you gave me that sketchbook. My hands are actually cramping a little and I'm pretty sure I'm almost out of ink." She giggled, a sound that perked Punk's ears up. He'd never heard her laugh before. It was a beautiful, bubbly laughter full of joy he never thought he would ever hear from her. He was speechless for a moment staring at her, slightly dumbfounded at the shiver it gave him. But she was still smiling at him. "Want to see one of my drawings? It's kind of stupid."

He managed a laugh. "I'm sure it's not," he said. "Let me see." She felt a little childish like a kid trying to impress an authority figure as she opened her book to specific page but she couldn't help but bite her lip nervously as he looked over the sketch.

"Wow," he whispered. "This is… incredible." His eyes widened down at the page where he saw an amazing likeness of himself, only he wasn't a prison guard. He was Wolverine, bearing the sharp knifelike claws of one of the most popular X-Men, scowling as well. ''How did you come up with this?"

"I just started drawing and didn't stop," she admitted with a sheepish smile.

"Wow," he repeated with a smile. "Can I… have this?"

"Sure!" She carefully tore the page out taking care not to damage the paper and handed it to him. He turned around and pinned it to the bulletin board on the wall behind him.

"Great," he said. "I'm a superhero now." He grinned. "I can't wait to see what else you come up with."

"Well…" She looked down at the book with a sigh. "Actually I have no more pages left."

"Really?" he asked with a laugh. "Already you've filled this entire thing up? You're on fire aren't you. Well let me see if I can find anything else for you to fill up." He rummaged through his desk drawers for a moment before finding another empty notebook, sliding it across the desk to her along with a few more pens. "You know I've been diving into the office stash for these pens for you."

"Well I guess I'm lucky then," she replied with a smile eagerly taking her new notebook. "Thank you so much. This really means a lot to me. Now I don't have to focus on everything else anymore." But she still couldn't help but wonder… "But I'm sure you didn't just call me here to look at my drawings."

"No that's just an added bonus," he said with a smile. "Actually I wanted to talk to you about something." He took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. "A few nights ago when I got home I saw some TV special about your case."

"Oh no," she groaned. She couldn't imagine anyone else seeing her a sobbing mess after her conviction.

"Just listen," he urged. "I was watching, and a lot of things about the way your case was handled just really didn't sit right with me. I think there were a lot of holes and it wasn't done properly… so I went and met with your lawyer yesterday."

"What?" she exclaimed, sitting straight up in her chair. "You saw David?"

"I did," he replied. "And with your permission… I'd like to help him file for an appeal."

* * *

_"Thanks for meeting me," Punk said, offering the well dressed man in front of him his hand to shake._

_"You're welcome," David replied shaking his hand firmly. "I don't ordinarily meet with people like this outside of my normal office hours but I suppose this isn't an ordinary situation."_

_"It's not," Punk agreed as he sat down in front of David's desk. "I'm sorry about the time though. I couldn't get out any earlier because my boss is making me work insane hours now…" He sighed. It was nearly 9 PM and he was still wearing his uniform. It was a miracle he'd even been able to get out of work before 10 but this was an important meeting. It was worth having double the paperwork tomorrow to leave early to drive to New Jersey and meet with this man._

_"So what exactly brings you here?" David asked. "You couldn't really elaborate on the phone. I know this is about April Mendez but… what do you need to know?"_

_"I don't like the way the case was handled," Punk replied with a sigh. "I saw this special on TV about it and everything just didn't sit right with me. What happened? Why didn't you file for an appeal?"_

_"Let me explain what happened," David said."I'm a court appointed lawyer because AJ couldn't afford one. When you're a court appointed lawyer you have to get expenses like having expert witnesses and things of that nature that normally cost a lot of money approved by the judge. I tried to hire a forensics expert to dispute the prosecution's 'evidence' but the judge denied it saying he was just some crackpot. After that all I could do was try to shut it down on cross examination but the judge objected every time I tried to suggest not everything was as it seemed with their fingerprints and hair analysis." He drummed his fingers on the table for a moment. "As soon as they convicted her I tried to file for an appeal but it was rejected. They tend not to pay for court appointed lawyers for appeals."_

_"So that's it?" Punk asked. "That's all? There's just no hope?"_

_David shook his head. "Not exactly," he replied. "I don't think an appeal would be rejected as long as it wasn't with a court appointed lawyer because then the court wouldn't be obligated to pay for it."_

_Punk's mind was racing now. This idea seemed so crazy even as he thought about but… "What if I paid you?" he blurted out. "Then you wouldn't be a court appointed lawyer. You would just be an outside hire and then you would be able to file for an appeal."_

_At this David actually laughed. "Theoretically yes but Mr. Brooks-"_

_"Punk," he corrected._

_"Right," David said with a nod. "Punk. Are you serious? Do you have any idea what you'd be agreeing to? You barely know this girl. She's my client yes but to you she's just an inmate in your prison."_

_"Do you think she's innocent?" Punk asked pointedly._

_David bristled. "She's my client," he replied. "It doesn't matter what my opinion is."_

_"It matters to me," Punk said. "Do you think she's innocent?"_

_"Yes," David said softly. "I do."_

_"Then I want to pay you," Punk told him. "I want to get her out of there."_

* * *

"I can't believe this," AJ muttered staring down at the desk. "You're… you're going to pay for my lawyer? You're really going to try to get me out of here?"

"Really," Punk replied. "You don't belong here, I'm sure of it. You're not like the rest. You're different."

"How do you know?" she asked. "You barely know me. You barely know anything about me. You don't know who I am or what my life was like or anything that led up to me being here." For some reason she found herself almost angry. She didn't know why but perhaps being judged off of what little he knew of her made her upset at him. "How do you know I'm not just like any of these other women?"

He stood up and leaned over the desk. "I'm good judge of character," he told her, cupping her cheek. "I have to be since I'm in here. I know who you are and I know you're innocent."

His soft, comforting hand offered hope. "Thank you," she whispered, eyes glittering with tears.


	9. Chapter 9

"I can't believe I have to fucking cover for you on Monday," Curt muttered with a good natured chuckle as he shut his locker. "Where the hell are you going anyway?"

"Hey I had to cover for you when you were sick," Punk reminded him.

"But that was only for one shift," Curt replied. "You're gonna be gone a full day. And you didn't even answer my question either. Where are you going?"

Punk sighed, glancing at his friend hesitantly. He hadn't really wanted to tell anyone where he was going or why. He'd been able to slip the vacation days in under Vince's nose and they were approved automatically because he had so many days saved up. But he had to know someone would question him sooner or later. "I'm going to New Jersey for a few days," he said finally, and gave Curt a quick and hushed overview of what he was going to be doing.

"You're investigating AJ's case?" Curt asked in disbelief as they reached the parking lot. "You're kidding me dude." He shook his head. "Do you have any idea what you're getting yourself into? They _all _say they're innocent and plenty of them are cute and good looking just like her but they're liars man. They get nice guys like you caught in their web and-"

"Nice guys like me?" Punk snapped suddenly. "I'm a fucking asshole Hawkins! Just because I haven't punched you in the face yet doesn't mean I'm some fucking hero or something."

"Then if you're not a nice guy why are you doing this for a girl you barely know?" Curt asked. "What makes her so special? Huh? You want to fuck her? Or maybe it's because of the nice drawing?"

"It's nothing like that!" Punk growled. He smacked his forehead in frustration. "Look I just know ok? She doesn't belong in here. I don't know how or why but someone set her up and I'm going to get to the bottom of it." He unlocked his car. "I'll see you in a few days."

"You're wasting your time Punk," Curt called after him but he was already gone.

* * *

Punk headed straight for New Jersey after work having already packed for his trip that morning. If his GPS was to be believed he would make it to Union City by 10 PM which was perfect… that was just the right time, when the night life of the city was starting to warm up. He wouldn't seem suspicious that way. He would be able to walk in, just like any average guy on a Friday night, scope the place out and learn what he needed to before disappearing without a trace.

He had to admit he was a little nervous about doing recon work like this but he knew he didn't have a choice if he really wanted to help AJ. She'd never had the money to pay for a private investigator during her trial and that expense was rejected by the judge. While he had enough savings to pay for hiring David, his pockets didn't quite run deep enough for much else. He would have to do much of the leg work for this case by himself.

He reached the city right on time having stopped only once to get gas and change out of his uniform. As he pulled into the parking lot he looked down at the notes David gave him. According to him, this was AJ's former place of work, Stone Cold's Red Hot Bombshells. The name was lit up with a huge neon sign set in the center of the big concrete building. The place looked as seedy and low brow as any other strip club he passed by but never went inside. That was another worry he had, he'd never been in one of these places in his life. It went against everything he lived by. He had no idea how to act once he got in there. He was sure he would stick out like a sore thumb.

_Just relax, _he told himself. _There's plenty of first time idiots who wander into strip joints all the time. Quit acting like you're going into a mob hit or something. _He ran one last nervous hand through his hair before approaching the door where a bored looking bouncer was standing in front of it.

"Cover charge," the bouncer replied gruffly.

"Huh?" Punk asked.

"You heard me," the bouncer growled. "Cover charge. 10 bucks."

"Oh. Right." He pulled his wallet out and unearthed a 10 dollar bill. Before he could even hand it over the man yanked it out of his hand and stepped aside for Punk to enter.

The inside was exactly what Punk expected it to be, more neon signs, poles, a big stage, speakers blaring annoying music and of course desperate looking men everywhere eyeing the scantily clad women who worked for the same pittance AJ once did. He even thought there was a bachelor party going on in the corner and he studied it with a scowl. The scum of the earth came here… disgusting. He already felt like he needed a shower. Leaning against the wall he glanced around the large intimidating room with a sigh. Where was he even supposed to start? Was he just supposed to talk to people and see where it took him? This was a wild goose chase. He should have gone over this more with David…

"Hey cutie," a sultry voice said from beside him. "Want a dance?"

He turned to his side. A young woman stood before him dressed in lacy red lingerie. She was a slender leggy girl, with long wavy blonde hair flowing down over shoulders. She was strikingly beautiful but he had to keep himself from wearing a look of disdain. He had to remember that like AJ most of these women weren't here because they wanted to strip and be objectified. But as all of this ran through his mind he was at a loss for what to say. "Um, what?" he asked.

She chuckled. "Just come with me," she said, taking his hand and leading him over to a fluffy looking lounge chair. "You can down right here baby."

He awkwardly eased around her to sit in the chair resisting the urge to cringe as he lowered himself onto the cushion, making a mental reminder to get rid of these clothes (or bleach them) before going home. He looked up at the young woman with widened eyes as she stood over him. He'd worked at several prisons over the years and seen the most hardened convicts the country had to offer but this situation was suddenly making him the most nervous he'd ever been. "Aren't I supposed to pay you?" he asked.

She laughed again. "Don't worry about that honey," she assured him. "I can tell this is your first time here. This one's on the house." Before he had the chance to argue she was already twisting her slinky body effortlessly around his lap, glancing back at him with a sly sexy grin. He was already feeling uncomfortable but he forced himself to look relaxed. He had to get information out of someone and he supposed she would have to do.

"So what's your name sweetie?" she asked, her red painted nails digging slightly into his thighs as she wiggled her hips around. "I'm Summer." She winked at him.

_Summer. _What an obviously fake stripper name! He had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He couldn't risk upsetting this woman when she might be the link he needed. "I'm uh, I'm John," he replied. _Damn it, _he thought. _I couldn't have thought of a better name than that? _Oh well. He needed to start figuring this out. "How uh, how long have you been working here?"

"A few years I guess," she answered. "Maybe 4 or 5. Since I dropped out of college anyway."

His eyes widened but he said nothing about her revelation. If she'd been here that long that meant she definitely worked while AJ was here. "So you knew AJ?" he asked. "She was a waitress here."

"Oh her?" Summer chuckled. "Yeah I knew her."

"Hey hon can I get you a drink?" a pale black haired girl asked as she came by. "We have a 2 for 1 special going on right now." She had a charming British accent.

"Uh no thanks," Punk replied. He looked back at Summer. "So were you friends?"

She shrugged. "Not really," she replied. "She was a really nice girl but she didn't say much so no one got to know much about her. I don't really think she belonged here you know." She paused, sliding down on his lap. "Why do you want to know so much about her anyway?" She laughed. "Oh are you one of those guys who heard about her on the news and just had to come down and check this place out? We got a lot of those customers during her trial. It's slowed down since she was convicted but we still get some whenever they air stuff on TV about her."

So he wasn't the only man who had questions about AJ then… but it didn't seem like Summer had discovered his true motives yet so he decided to dig deeper. "You said she was a nice girl," Punk continued. "Can you… tell me more about her?"

Summer frowned. "There's not much to tell. It seemed like this was sort of a last ditch effort job for her you know? She would smile and wink at customers and stuff but it was totally clear dressing like that while serving drinks made her super uncomfortable you know? I asked her about it once and she told me she didn't like being 'objectified' or something when it wasn't on her terms."

"So then I guess she wasn't very good at her job," he said.

"No she was," she replied. "She got plenty of tips because she's cute. Just not as much as any of the other waitresses and for sure not as much as the dancers!" She giggled.

"Do you think she was really capable of hurting someone like that then?" he asked.

Her whole body suddenly froze over his, a strange expression coming over her face. "Why are you asking so many questions anyway? This is just a strip club. I-"

"_Summer_!"

At the sound of the harsh deep voice behind her the young woman instantly stood up and turned around. "M-Mr. Austin!" she stammered. "I was just-"

"You've been here for 10 minutes," the tall, bald burly man growled. "Unless this guy is paying for a double you better get your ass up and find another customer."

"Well he's a first timer," Summer began to explain. "He was going to pay for the next-"

The man grabbed her by the arm and yanked her away from the chair. "Did you fuckin hear me?" he growled. "I _said _you better get your ass up and-"

"Hey what the fuck is your problem?" Punk snapped as he stood up. "The girl's just giving me a lap dance. Who the hell are you anyway?"

The man released Summer's arm and turned to him. "I'm Steve Austin," he replied coolly. "I own this club. If you've got a problem then you can fuckin leave pal!"

Punk wasn't afraid of this guy. It was clear to him that while Austin was a big guy he was just a redneck club owner. But he couldn't afford to be starting any trouble right now. What he needed was information and he'd gotten some of what he needed tonight. He forced himself to relax and uncurl his fists. "I was just leaving," he spat through gritted teeth. He turned around and made his way through the maze of chairs, poles and drunken patrons to get to the exit. Just as he got to the door he felt a soft hand grip his arm and tug him back.

"I heard what you were asking Summer about AJ," the young British woman who waited on him earlier said in a hushed voice. "You're not a customer. Who are you? Why are you here?"

"I'm… I'm just a friend," Punk replied. "I need to find out what happened."

The girl looked around her nervously. "There's a lot more going on here than you realize," she said hurriedly. "If you want to know more I get off shift in a few hours. Meet me at the diner across the street at midnight ok? I have to go."

Before Punk could say anything the waitress hurried off leaving him with more questions then answers.


	10. Chapter 10

AJ was teetering on the edge of excitement and fear all weekend. She knew Punk was going to be investigating aspects of her trial on David's advice but she had no idea what he was doing or where he was going. She was still in a state of shock and disbelief that such a hard lined prison guard was even helping her reopen the case that locked her behind bars. It wasn't too long ago he was forcing her to get down on her knees and mop up a puddle of milk with her hands and now he was risking his career and spending a chunk of his savings to get her out of prison. What was his motive? Why didn't he suddenly care so much? But she didn't want to question him too much just yet. She didn't want to lose what may very well be her only chance at freedom before the age of 50.

She was nervous when she didn't see him around on Tuesday, the day he was supposed to be back. She thought at first he just hadn't made his way to the cell block yet, maybe he was taking care of his missed paperwork early today. But when she didn't see him patrolling by the early afternoon she began to panic. She was pacing the cell block floor nervously to the point where people noticed she was on edge.

"What's got you so spooked?" Maria asked not looking up from her book.

"Yeah you've been like this all day," Kelly piped up. She and Natalya were playing checkers. "You're not still worried about Eve are you? She's all talk without Beth to back her up you know!"

"No no it's not that," AJ muttered, glancing down at the sketchbook in her arms. She hadn't drawn much today because she was too worried about Punk. She'd been trying to take her mind off him but not even sketching could do that. Of course she considered the fact he was simply ill and had taken a day off to recuperate she thought that would just be too convenient to be lining up with the day he was taking off for investigation purposes. What if something happened to him? She didn't know if she could handle it if something happened to him while he was putting his neck on the line for her…

"You know something has to be wrong," Natalya said. "She's not drawing, and she's always drawing." She paused. "What are you always scribbling in there anyway? You've never shown me. Let me see."

"Oh, but-" AJ began to protest but the words were barely out of her mouth before Natalya yanked the book from her hands and began flipping through it.

"Oooh interesting," Natalya said with a grin. "Hey look at this one! Awww how cute." She held up the book so Maria and Kelly would see the page she stopped on, another rendition of Punk as Wolverine (this time in a different pose with his claws crossed over his chest). "Someone has a crush!"

"A crush!" Kelly echoed with a laugh. "She's totally fucking him. You're fucking him aren't you?"

"Yeah she's always disappearing with him," Maria added.

"Shut up!" AJ snapped. "I'm not doing anything like that!" She snatched her sketchbook back and snapped it shut. "And I do _not _have a crush. That's stupid." She stormed off in a huff her cheeks bright red with embarrassment as she headed to the stairs to go back to her cell. But just as she went to round the corner she crashed straight into someone. "Oh god sorry!"

"It's ok," Punk assured her quickly. "Come with me. We need to talk."

* * *

It took all of AJ's willpower not to burst on the walk to Punk's office but as soon as he closed the door behind them she exploded. "What happened to you?" she cried. "You weren't here this morning and I was worried sick and… and now you've got a black eye? When did this happen? How? Oh my god…" She was on the verge of tears as she paced around the tiny room. "This is all my fault. You're investigating my case and you got hurt because of it!"

"AJ," Punk said calmly, "sit down. I'm ok. It's just a black eye, I've had much worse before."

"Tell me what happened!" she blurted out. "Where did you go? Who did you see?"

"Well first I went to Stone Cold's," he replied.

* * *

_Punk sat in that diner for what felt like an eternity. It was one of those nondescript places where they didn't care if all you ordered was a soda and you drank it minute sip by minute sip over the course of a few hours. He spent the time twiddling his thumbs madly wondering what a pale young waitress at a strip club could have to tell him that was so dire they had to meet so secretly like this? Just thinking about it continued to worry him even more._

_Finally a little after midnight he heard the bell above the door ring that signaled another customer was entering the diner. He could see her from the darkened clandestine corner he chose to inhabit over the last few hours although she was much more reasonably dressed now, in jeans instead of the impossibly short skirt she was wearing earlier, with her long straight black hair hanging over simple tank top. She spotted him instantly and hurried over to him sliding into the booth._

_"Before I say anything I need to know who you are," the girl said._

_"I told you I'm just a friend," Punk replied curtly. "I just want to know what happened._

_She shook her head. "Not good enough. I told you earlier there's a lot more going on here and I want to tell you. But I'm not just going to open and trust any guy who comes in and says he's a 'friend' of AJ alright? So you need to tell me who you are and why you want to know about her."_

_He sighed. He'd been hoping to avoid revealing his true identity and possibly get himself into a world of trouble. But it didn't look like he had much of a choice. "I'm a prison guard ok?" he said. "I work where she's incarcerated. I got to know her and I found out some facts about her trial. I didn't think things were investigated well so I decided to look into it. That's all."_

_She tilted her head at him. "And I'm supposed to believe you're just 'looking into things' for her out of the goodness of your heart?" she asked pointedly. _

_"Yes!" he snapped getting frustrated now. "I'm trying to get her case reopened! I have the money to pay for her lawyer but I can't afford an investigator too, so the leg work is on me. I'm trying to find out as much as I can because I think she's innocent and she doesn't belong there. But if you just made me wait in this damn diner for hours to bullshit me then I'm out of here. I have other leads to pursue." He got up to leave the table but she grabbed his arm._

_"Alright alright," she said finally. "I just had to be sure." She sighed. "You know you almost got Summer in a lot of trouble earlier. The chairs are wired for sound."_

_"What?" he asked in disbelief. "What the hell for?"_

_"Mr. Austin…" She shook her head. "He's a crazy boss. He likes having control over everything and he thinks it's worth listening in case any of the patrons have something interesting to say."_

_"If everyone knows about the mics then why was she talking so much?"_

_The girl rolled her eyes. "Summer is a complete ditz," she explained. "She steps over the line a lot. The only reason she still has a job is because she's very popular. Lots of guys ask for her by name. That's why Austin allows her to give free dances to new customers because he knows they will come back for her. But you were digging too deep and asking too many questions so he stopped it."_

_"Then tell me what's really going on here," Punk urged. "Please."_

_"Look what I'm about to tell you could get me… in a lot of trouble so I'm only going to tell you what you need to help AJ ok? Austin isn't just a strip club owner. He does other things for money too, with a lot of the friends he has in high places. Rosa overheard a phone conversation and tried to extort money from him so he set AJ up to take the fall for her murder."_

_Punk was sure his jaw would have crashed straight through the table if it was long enough. So the tall redneck asshole who tried to intimidate him was really responsible for all of this… "So you're saying Austin killed Rosa then? And he framed her?"_

_"I'm not saying he was the one who did it," she replied quickly. "I'm just saying that it wasn't AJ and they framed her for it to make money and shut Rosa up."_

_His mind was running at top speed now trying to process a hundred different thoughts and possibilities at once. "But how do you know all this?" he pressed. "Why haven't you been killed then too?"_

_"Because I'm not an idiot like Rosa and I know how to keep my mouth shut!" she snapped, then looked around and sighed. "Until now. I shouldn't have asked you to come here… I want to help AJ but they're going to find out and I'll be…" She stood up. "I have to go."_

_"Wait!" Punk said jumping up to follow her. "I have so many more questions!"_

_"I can't," she replied shaking her head. "I have to go. I'm sorry."_

* * *

AJ was hugging her legs throughout the story her chin resting on her knees. "I knew it," she said tearfully. "I knew they set me up. Everything the prosecution laid out just seemed so incredibly perfect like something you would see on TV. I knew they framed me!" She wiped your eyes. "And you said it was a pale British girl who told you all this?" He nodded. "That was Paige then… I can't believe she put her neck on the line for me to tell you all of that!"

"She left me with more questions than answers," Punk said with a sigh. "It was obvious you were framed and we know your old boss had a part in it, at least organizing it if not carrying out the whole thing but there are so many more parts to this. Who got your finger prints and hair to plant at the crime scene? Why you? What's Austin doing that had to be covered up by murder? Why is this Paige girl so afraid to tell me more?" He rubbed his temples with a groan. "There's so much more to this then I thought."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I had no idea."

He held up a hand. "It's ok," he assured her. "I got myself into this by offering to help. I had to accept that there was the possibility of there being a grander picture here."

"Wait," she said suddenly. "You never told me about that black eye."

"Oh." He chuckled ruefully. "That. Well I spent Saturday and Sunday going around your hometown. I stopped by your school but none of your old professors would talk to me. I guess they were sick of trying to be interviewed. I went to your apartment to see if anything was left but there's a big 'condemned' sign on the door and it's boarded up so I couldn't even get in." He paused. "And I tried to talk to your family. You said they weren't exactly supportive of you after your arrest and during the trial… fuck were you right. Mentioning your name spooked your brother enough to yell for your dad. I managed to get one question out before he socked me right in the faced and told me to never come by again."

"My dad?" she all but shrieked jumping out of her chair. "You shouldn't have gone to talk to my family!" She shrank back down into her seat miserably. "My god what have I gotten you into?"

He just laughed. "I've had much worse than a black eye baby," he said. "Shit I deserve much worse."

"So what do we do now?" she asked still feeling a terrible guilt in the pit of her stomach. She didn't know what she would do if he kept getting hurt in the pursuit of clearing her name. "I know you're going to tell all this to David but… how does this help? All we know now is that we have to get more information we have no idea how to obtain."

"I don't know," Punk replied with a sigh. "But I'll figure it out." He got up to pace the room eventually leaning against a wall and rubbing his forehead. He looked more stressed than she ever saw him before… without even thinking twice she got up and crossed the room to him, leaning against his chest and wrapping her arms comfortingly around his neck.

"No one has ever cared about me this much," she whispered.

_I'm going to get fired for this, _he thought as he lifted his arms to hug her back.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note: Hey everyone I am soooo sorry its been so long since my last update, I've had one heck of a week! But I'm back with an extra long chapter to hopefully make up for being missing and included an extra treat at the end ;) I hope everyone enjoys! Be sure to check out a chapter I co wrote with Jean-theGuardian for his punklee story Hard to Handle. Ok folks thats all, on with the show!**

* * *

"So where do we go from here?" Punk asked.

David sighed heavily. "Well you've brought me a lot of information," he said. "None of it is concrete enough to use in court especially if you can't get that girl you heard it from to testify so we're still going to need to hire that forensics expert. I'll need you to pay for the tests on the evidence as well as the testimony. Can you afford that? If not we might as well not bother."

"It'll be tight but I can manage," Punk replied. "I don't suppose you take payment plans?"

"We'll work something out," David assured him. "I've already filed for the appeal so I'll let you know where we stand in about a week or so. I'll be in touch." He hung up.

Curt just shook his head sadly. "So you're really still going through with this then?"he asked as he took a sip of his soda. "Even after getting your ass beaten?"

Punk laughed. "I hardly got my ass beaten Curt," he said as he popped another fry into his mouth. "It was just a little black eye. And really I don't blame AJ's dad for doing it. If some random guy showed up on my doorstep asking pushy questions about the daughter I disowned when she was convicted of a brutal murder I might punch him in the face too."

"But after everything that waitress told said you aren't worried you're getting into something way over your head?" Curt pressed him worriedly. "There's obviously something bigger going on here than just a wrongful conviction. Someone framed her and they're definitely not going to want to get caught. How much longer do you think you can keep poking around and looking for answers like this before someone notices you're asking questions?"

"You're overreacting," Punk said casually. "It's not like the damn club is run by the mafia or something."

"Fuck it might be!" Curt exclaimed. "The waitress didn't even tell you what-"

Punk rolled his eyes. "You're such a damn worry wart you know that?" he asked. "Look I'm tired Curt. I have to wake up early tomorrow to finish my paperwork. These hours are killing me."

"That's what you get for standing up to Orton I guess," Curt said with a sigh as he threw cash down on the table for his meal. "Backlash from the fucking warden."

"Are you telling me you wouldn't have saved her too?" Punk asked putting down cash as well.

"Of course I would," Curt replied as they got up. "But I wouldn't be trying to get her out of prison."

"Yeah yeah, keep harping on that," Punk said. "I'll see you tomorrow." He left the dimly lit Denny's and headed to his car. As he made his way home he didn't even notice at first how closely the Toyota behind him but when he pulled up to a red light he thought the car looked familiar. The scrape on the bumper looked similar to one on a Toyota he passed in the parking lot. Was it the same car, he wondered? He decided to pay it no mind as he was on one of the larger main roads in the city. Even if this car was the same one he saw at Denny's that didn't mean it was following him.

But as he got closer to his apartment he could see the same green Toyota with the damaged front bumper a few car lengths away from him. It was definitely the same car… just to make sure he made an unnecessary right turn and then a left. As he pulled up to the light he saw it again. No he was definitely being followed now… but why? Who was the man driving the car? The headlights streaming into his rearview mirror made it far too bright for him to make out any features but Punk could tell it was the silhouette of a man. A man who was tracking him for some reason.

Nervously Punk stepped on the gas as soon as the light turned green. He sped down the road hanging a turn so sharp he was sure the tires on the right side of his car were lifted off the road a couple of inches. As soon as the car straightened out he turned down a side street into an alley sliding in behind a dumpster and turning off his lights. As he waited with his breath held he saw the Toyota blow past the alley. Finally feeling a little more at ease he allowed himself to breathe, leaning against his steering wheel. It seemed like he managed to lose his tail, whoever it happened to be.

When he finally made his way home that night (after taking a much longer route with many odd twists and turns) Punk found himself checking the locks on his front door and windows several times. This feeling wasn't one he remembered feeling for a long time but it was easy to name now- fear. After years of having so much power over people far more vulnerable and helpless than himself he barely even remembered what it felt like to be scared. Why the fuck was he being _followed_?

"Wait," he growled aloud to himself suddenly as he sat down on the couch. This was stupid of him. He was surely just being paranoid. He had no way of knowing if he was really being followed or not. Maybe all of the stress he'd been going through lately was getting to him. He just needed a good night's sleep.

* * *

AJ had to admit she hadn't been this hopeful in awhile. Ever since her arrest and her trial played out on national television she barely even had the strength to get out of bed in the morning anymore, knowing all she had to look forward to were gray walls and the other inhabitants of her cell block. But ever since Punk decided to take on the task of proving her innocence she thought there just might be a light at the end of the tunnel after all. She tried to remind herself not to get too excited, there were still plenty of things that could go wrong. There was still Eve to contend with who was liable to snap at any moment (AJ didn't trust Natalya or any of the other girls' assessment that Eve wasn't a threat with no back up) and Officer Orton was still lurking around somewhere, she was sure. There was no guarantee this appeal would even work either especially in light of everything Punk learned from her former co worker Paige... this framing was clearly the work of someone out of her element. But it was more than she had before.

And the fact that the man who was helping her on her way to freedom was someone she positively loathed only a few weeks ago was as mind boggling as it was comforting. Punk's motives confused her at first (it wasn't long before this he was laughing gleefully at everything he said and did to embarrass and humiliate her) but she was sure now he was on her side. After all he was risking his entire career to help her. He was in the doghouse with his boss already just for saving her from being attacked. Even if the appeal was denied or they lost, knowing that someone cared about her enough to even try after everyone around her abandoned her might just be enough to keep her from losing herself completely.

She was spending her evening after dinner with her head buried in her sketchbook as usual, this time working on a rendition of Captain America. She stood up as the buzzer for lights out sounded and everyone began heading back to their cells when she felt a firm hand on her shoulder. Picking up her book she turned around nervously but her frown quickly faded when she saw it was only Punk. She was glad to see him as he'd made himself scarce all day… but something was wrong. His eyes were narrowed down at her with a fierce stare that sent a shiver down her spine. "Is… everything ok?" she asked.

"We need to talk," he said gruffly. "Now."

"Punk what's wrong?" she whispered as he pulled her down the hallway, past the now empty offices on the way to his own. Each step they took without him answering made her even more nervous. He wasn't acting like himself. He seemed tense and upset and his grip was tightening on her arm the closer they got to his office. Finally he pulled her through the doorway and slammed the door behind her, locking it.

"Please tell me what's going on!" she begged as he began pacing the room, rubbing her arm uncomfortably. "You're acting so strange and I haven't seen you all day, what's wrong with you?"

"You want to know what's wrong with me?" he snapped finally turning around. "I want to know what the fuck is happening to life! Someone _followed me home _last night!"

Followed you?" she echoed with a frown. It was clear she didn't understand what he was getting at.

"Yes AJ, a guy tried to follow me home from a restaurant yesterday," he replied irritatingly. "When I lost him and I got home I thought I was just being paranoid, or maybe I was just tired from 12 hour shifts 5 damn days a week. But when I left my building this morning I saw the same fucking car! I lost the fucker on the way to work. Then on my lunch break Randy was giving me the fucking creeps. He wouldn't stop staring at me so I convinced Curt and Christian to go with me somewhere else but as soon as we left the prison that same fucking car followed us there and back and Randy was practically stepping on my feet the entire fucking rest of the shift! Why am I being followed AJ? Why am I being watched?"

"I have no idea!" she cried. "I'm in prison. Why would I have any idea what's happening?"

"None of this was happening until I started investigating your case," he replied frantically. "What the fuck is happening at that fucking strip club that I'm being stalked after asking a few questions? Who the fuck is framing you an international crime lord or something?"

"Punk I don't know!" she replied pleadingly. "Everything you've been finding out is news to me too. I don't have any idea what's going on but I'm so sorry it's affecting you like this! I had no idea any of this would happen…" She was biting her lip anxiously now unable to believe things had escalated like this. She never could have imagined there was more to this than being set up by perhaps a vengeful ex boyfriend of Rosa's or maybe a debt collector for a loan shark. But it was clear to her now, with the information Punk got from Paige and the fact that he was now being followed around that there was far more to this situation than she ever could have dreamed of.

"Maybe I shouldn't be doing this…" Punk muttered as he continued to pace the room.

AJ froze, her heart racing. "Punk no!" she pleaded.

"I'm already putting my career on the line to help you," he continued shaking his head. "I could easily lose my job if anyone finds out I'm paying for your lawyer. Now my fucking life might be in danger too! I should put a stop to this… I should just back out…"

"Please don't!" she begged fearfully as tears sprang to her eyes. "I need… I can't… you have to…" She could barely form a coherent sentence. If he backed out and gave up she would never be free. She would die in here before she even got a chance at parole, she was sure of that.

"I have to what?" he shouted suddenly turning around to face her again. "What do I have to do AJ? Why do I have risk my neck for you huh? A few months ago I was just living my fucking life and I didn't have to care until you got your ass shipped off to my prison. Who the fuck are you to me? You're just some nerdy girl on my cell block. You're nothing to me!"

She was astounded, not only by his words but by how much they struck her to her very core. Her lower lip quivered as they faced each other in a raw palpable silence for a moment until she finally found her voice again, and the strength not to be that nerdy little girl. "Then give up!" she shot back angrily, her fists curled so tightly her nails were digging into her palms. "Just walk away then and go back to your normal simple life and stop giving me false hope! I don't need to lured into some false sense of security and believe I'm actually going to make it out of this because some asshole is trying to pretend he isn't one! Just forget about me and take me back to my cell Punk, and just go back to treating me like dirt because that's what I'm fucking used to and you're not the man I thought you were. Take this back this back too you bastard!" She reeled her arm back to throw her sketch book at him but he caught her arm, gripping it firmly and staring down at him with a piercing stare.

"I _am _the man you thought I was," he hissed grasping both of her wrists.

"I'm nothing to you," she spat back boldly.

His expression began to soften. "I didn't mean that," he replied tightly.

"You did!" she cried.

"I'm not that bastard!" he growled. "I will never be that fucking bastard!"

"Then prove it! You-"

Before she could even finish he pressed his mouth against hers in a slow moving, exploratory kiss. She was struck in an instant at how much heat leapt from his lips to hers that she couldn't help the small cry as she kissed him back. Her arms somehow fell around his neck as his own large, well defined arms locked around her back. His tongue swept between her soft, parted lips, sensually tangling with hers in a fight for dominance. She groaned, her grip around his neck tightening with each thorough swirl of his tongue across her own. She could never have imagined he would taste so intoxicating. He was like a mind altering drug. She felt like her lips were trapped to his, unable to break free from the spell she was now under. As he closed the onslaught, he became gentle, tender even, drawing her in with a softness she'd never seen from him.

Every instinct told him he needed to stop. This was wrong in every sense of the word. What the hell was he doing? She was an inmate. He was a guard sworn to uphold the law of this prison. He couldn't be doing this. He was taking advantage of his position of authority over her wasn't he? Just like Randy… "I can't," he muttered quickly pulling himself back from her. "I'm sorry. You're right."

"About what?" she whispered her hands braced on his shoulders.

"I'm… I'm just like him," he said dejectedly. "I'm just like Randy."

"You're not!" She framed his face between her hands, running her thumbs over his rough whiskered cheeks. "I was wrong… you're not…" She kissed him again, this time their teeth gnashing together in a fierceness that took her breath away. He responded hungrily and eagerly, letting out an almost primal growl as he pinned her at the waist against his desk. His hands descended the rough scratchy material of her jumpsuit pawing it desperately for purchase. She gasped when he found the zipper and yanked it down, pushing the jumpsuit down to her waist to reveal the creamy smooth skin underneath.

He broke their kiss, leaning back a little as his chest heaved for breath. She shuddered when he grabbed her shoulders, running his calloused palms down the length of her bare arms. "Are you ok?" he whispered fiery green eyes locking with hers.

She nodded quickly, absolutely entranced by him. "More," she begged breathlessly embracing him again and tugging at his shirt. "Please." He quickly pulled his radio and his badge from his shirt and raised his arms to allow her to strip it off him, and she eagerly ran her hands up his ribcage as she drank in the image of the full expanse of his tattoos. Each of her fingertips were like tiny pressure points of heat as they traveled across his inked skin, sending electricity coursing through his veins. She was pressing soft butterfly kisses to his chest as his hand snaked slowly down her front, easily pulling her underwear down. When he parted her to slip a finger inside her heated, moist entrance she let out a moan, her whole body shuddering and nearly collapsing against him.

"This is crazy…" she gasped raggedly as he rotated his finger inside her, eliciting tiny fluttering moans from her lips.

"I know it is," he whispered back as he supported her by her shoulders, arching his wrist to plunge an additional finger into soft wetness. She cried out sharply. Such ministrations elevated her to such a plane of pleasure that she almost felt light headed, even a little feverish.

"P-Punk," she stammered as she clawed at his belt buckle anxiously. She practically tore it open and began fumbling for his zipper. "I-I want… I need…"

He reached behind her and with one swipe of his arm cleared enough space on his desk to lift her onto it. "Call me Phil," he whispered as he pulled his zipper down the rest of the way and locked her in another fierce kiss. He hiked his pants and boxer shorts down a little and she could feel the tip of his erection, tantalizingly hot steel, pressed against her stomach. She reached to stroke him, forcing shuddering moans from his mouth as her slender fingers tortured him to the brink of insanity.

"Punk… Phil, please," she begged as her lips broke from his. "Please. I need you. Please."

Her wish was his willing and eager command. He tugged off her shoes and locked her legs around his waist. When he thrust himself between her silky slick folds that enveloped him as perfectly as a glove, both of them could finally lose themselves. They were able to forget who and where they were and just take comfort in one another without having to remember what it was that brought them together.

He started rocking his waist against hers and she could only marvel at how perfectly they fit together. His fluid motion as he pulled himself out of her teasingly only to power his length back into her left to hold urgently to his shoulders her nails raking at his back just to hang on. "Oh!" she cried muffling the sound by biting down hard on his shoulder.

"You… ok?" he rasped between thrusts. "I'm not… hurting… you?"

"No," she gasped. She lifted her head to stare at him pleadingly. "Harder… please… make me w-whole… make me… make me feel…"

He knew what she needed from him… because part of him, the part of him that was fighting so desperately to save her needed it too. Wrapping his arms around her he bucked his hips wildly against hers with a motion that rattled their bones every time they crashed together. He could feel her core heating up and beginning to tighten around him, his own arousal ready to burst as he dragged her closer and closer to the precipice she wanted so badly to fall off of.

"Oh Phil," she moaned weakly. "I'm so… I'm…"

"I know," he hissed in her ear. "I know baby."

When it hit her it felt like a lightning strike, a surge that flowed through her body and caused her toes to curl as her ankles tightened in a shudder around his back. He was just barely able to make out the sound his name, coated in her velvety voice as it tumbled from her lips as body stiffened, groaning and growling into her ear as he filled her completely.

* * *

"What was that?" she whispered to him moments later. He was sitting on the floor against his desk, still shirtless as she curled against his chest and wore only half her jumpsuit.

"I'm not sure," he admitted as he rubbed her shoulder gently.

Neither of them knew what it meant. Right now they couldn't even begin to figure it out. They could only continue to hang onto this moment and hope to make it last just a little bit longer before they had to leave this office and return to the horrifying spectacle of their lives.


	12. Chapter 12

_"What's going on boss?" Randy asked knocking twice on the door frame before entering._

_"Sit down," Vince ordered. The older man had several file folders out on his desk and it was clear he'd been sorting through them for awhile now. "We have a problem."_

_"Problem?" Randy echoed curiously as he took a seat in front of the desk._

_Vince slid one of the folders across the desk. "These are documents I found that popped up on the court docket," he replied."They're trying to reopen the Mendez case."_

_"But they can't," Randy said with a frown as he looked over the folder. "Right? She had a public defender. They don't do appeals and she's broke but the same lawyer is the one filing the paperwork. David Otunga. How is this happening?"_

_"Someone is paying for her lawyer you idiot!" Vince snapped. "Isn't it obvious?" He took a deep breath in an attempt to compose himself. "Austin spotted some suspicious activity in Jersey not too long ago, a guy asking too many questions. Had the guy followed… turns out it's one of our own. It's Brooks."_

_"Brooks?" Randy spat. "He's not one of our own. The only reason the bastard is even still here is because of how much he's bled for this job and you know it! He has no idea what's happening!" His fists tightened in anger as he recalled when his 'superior' had robbed him of experiencing that sweet little thing… he knew the reason Punk was on her case now was because he was fucking her. It had to be._

_"And he can't know," Vince reminded him angrily. "But he must be getting closer to the truth otherwise he wouldn't be trying to reopen the case and you need to put a stop to it. You can't just take out the girl, that's going to start an investigation and we don't need all of the red tape right now."_

_"Then just let me kill him," Randy urged. "I'll make him disappear."_

_Vince shook his head. "Then we have the same problem on our hands on a larger scale. We'd have internal affairs and probably the feds crawling all over this place. It would be too convenient if something happened to him… we would have to get rid of the lawyer too then…" He drummed his fingers on the table. "No what you need to do is convince him not to do this. Get him to withdraw the appeal."_

_"How am I supposed to do that?" Randy asked._

_"I don't know, figure it out!" Vince snapped. "What the fuck do I pay you for Orton? You've solved problems before and you can solve this one too. Take care of it!"_

* * *

For the entire rest of the evening Punk was numb, completely and utterly numb. He couldn't look at AJ as he silently escorted her back to her cell. Had she managed to muster up the courage to say a single word to him he wouldn't have been able to answer, he was just too desensitized to everything around him. He didn't say goodbye to Curt or Christian and he didn't even notice the green Toyota pulling out of the parking lot to follow behind him as he drove home. When he locked his front door behind he immediately kicked his boots off and stripped his clothes away. His shirt still smelled like her, that soft and easily identifiable female scent. With an angry grunt he threw his clothes in the couch and headed to the bathroom. As he passed the mirror over the sink was immediately able to see the state of his back, rubbed raw and raked with claw marks. He could even make out the formation of a bruise on his neck just above the collar bone… and over where his shirt would cover it.

Sighing with frustration he turned on the shower and stood beneath the stream. The hot water stung his skin but he barely even noticed. He was still unable to process just exactly what had happened tonight let alone feel the effects of it on his body. With a groan he slid down on the wall until he was sitting against it, his eyes following the trail of water beading off his body and circling the drain on the other side of the tub. Just what exactly had happened in his life tonight? What had he done…

_You know exactly what the fuck you've done, _he thought miserably. _You put a vulnerable terrified inmate who is completely under your control up onto your desk and fucked her until she screamed your name over and over. An inmate! And you enjoyed it didn't you, you sick bastard?_

There was no question that he enjoyed it. Moving inside her as he felt her nails dig into his back and her lips on his neck, hearing those soft fluttery moans of his name… just thinking about it now made him twitch a little. No there was no question at all that he enjoyed every second of his encounter with that woman. What troubled him wasn't the obvious physical enjoyment but the rush of passion he felt during and afterward as well. He felt so comfortable and intimate there with her, with emotions flowing through him that he could not even begin to name.

As he got to his feet he was sure there was something wrong with him. He was becoming so thoroughly entangled with AJ now, and it was past just putting his life at risk. Now his mind was a complete mess and even as he began to wash the shame from his skin he couldn't even begin to put it back together.

* * *

AJ didn't sleep at all that night, laying awake and staring at the concrete ceiling not far above her head (had she not been so short she would not have been able to sit up without hitting her head). Every time she closed her eyes she was back in Punk's arms listening to him gasp and moan in her ear while his hipbones crashed mercilessly into hers. His awkward silence as he'd walked her back to her cell confirmed her fears that she felt that she was absolutely bringing ruin to his life- first by accidentally dragging him into the hotbed of her legal case and now by allowing him to play her body like a fiddle. Now he was more invested then ever and she knew if anything happened to him… anything at all… it was going to be her fault and she would never forgive herself.

In the morning she endured Natalya's light teasing about looking like she had a sleepless night ("you sure look tired, did you get roughed up while I was asleep?") and brushed it off as they headed to breakfast. Because her cell was on the end of the bottom tier she was always among the last of the cell block to file into the cafeteria. But as she went to round the corner she was yanked back away from the line and back into the shadow of the hallway, something being pressed into her hand.

"W-what is this?" she whispered looking up at him fearfully.

"Morning after pill," Punk replied gruffly after glancing nervously around them to make sure no one was listening. "The last thing we need is more problems. Just take it."

"Right now?" she asked.

"Yes right now!" He thrust a paper cup of water from the cooler in the break room into her other hand and waited impatiently as she popped the pill out of its container to place it on her tongue and swallow it with a sip of water. She handed the container and the cup back to him both of which he crushed in his fist and shoved in his pocket. "Good." He started to turn to walk away.

"Wait!" she said quickly grabbing his arm. "Don't we need to talk?"

"We have nothing to talk about," he replied flatly. "You need to go eat breakfast."

She blinked at him. "I think we have a lot to talk about," she said.

He sighed heavily as he massaged his forehead. "I have too much on my mind right now to even try to talk about it," he muttered. "I'm sure the guy who follows me is trying to figure out why the hell I bought the morning after pill on the way to work and I'm trying to mentally deal with the fact that I fucked an inmate on my desk last night. It's not going well."

She paled and leaned back against the wall. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I kissed you first and I'm the idiot paying for your lawyer," he said with a shrug. "I'm the insane one."

"You're still pay-"

"Yes now just go!" He gave her a little shove into the cafeteria as he saw Curt turning the corner from the other end of the hallway. She disappeared into the cafeteria just as Curt reached him, who was whistling casually as he often did in the morning.

"Morning Wolverine," Curt teased casually. "How's your early paperwork been going?"

"Fucking nightmare," Punk sighed as he leaned back against the wall, adjusting the baton on his belt.

"And… what about the other thing?" He didn't want to say it out loud, thankfully.

"Nightmare," Punk replied. "Everything's a goddamn nightmare these days."

"Well have you talked to that lawyer anymore about this?" Curt asked keeping the conversation vague enough that it wouldn't matter if they were overheard. "I know I can't talk you out of going through with this no matter how idiotic it is so you at least need to do it right. Figure out where the fuck your money's going. I know you're stressing about it. Hell you look like you haven't slept in days!" He sighed studying his friend with concern, then frowned when he spotted something on his neck. "What's that?"

"What's what?" Punk asked even though he knew exactly what Curt was talking about.

"Yeah Punk, what is it?" Randy joined in suddenly as he came down the hallway.

"It's nothing, now fuck off," Punk shot back boldly, trying to straighten his collar to cover it.

"I don't know, looks like a little bite mark to me," Randy said thoughtfully, poking it hard.

"Hey that fucking hurt, what's your problem?" Punk snapped.

Randy just stared him down. "Come on Punk, share it with the boys," he hissed. "Did you go cruising the bars last night, pick up a girl for some fun? Wait no, I forgot, you're too good for casual hook ups and alcohol aren't you? No you're taking your picking from somewhere close to home huh? Maybe a girl here? Probably about 5'1, long brown hair, perfect little body? Don't look so ashamed Punk. It's ok. I want a piece of that myself." He grinned savagely.

"You stay the fuck away from her you son of a bitch!" Punk shouted giving him a shove. The thought of Randy laying a single finger on AJ made him suddenly violent with rage.

"Whoa whoa whoa," Curt said quickly placing himself between the two of them eager to avoid a brawl between guards, separating them at arms length. "Let's just uh calm down shall we?"

But Randy was just laughing. "I should get to my post," he said smirking. "I'll catch you later."

As soon as the smug guard disappeared into the cafeteria Curt pulled Punk off the wall by his shirt. "What the fuck is going on?" he demanded. "What's he talking about? You're not… dude you're not sleeping with Mendez are you?"

Punk just pulled himself away and looked down, reluctant to answer.

"Oh my god, you are!" Curt exclaimed. "I can't believe it, you're actually fucking an inmate. After years of yapping to me and Christian about not being like some of the slime ball guards in here like that asshole or Cody or any of them, and here you are sleeping with one too!"

"I'm not a fucking rapist Hawkins," Punk replied defensively. "It just happened ok?"

"Just happened?" Curt cried. "How does something like this _just happen_? Is that why you're paying for her lawyer? Jesus Christ Punk you're risking your life to get your dick wet!"

"That's not what's going on, and keep your fucking voice down!" Punk ordered. "Look it's really… complicated ok? I don't know what's going to happen next but I need time to figure it out."

"Well you need to get your head together before you get your ass killed."

* * *

_"Oh god," Eve breathed in pleasure. "Oh my god…" She couldn't focus on anything else around her but him as she felt him heaving inside her over and over again._

_"Hey baby," Randy whispered into her ear as each buck of his hips against hers smacked her back against the concrete wall of the laundry room. "I need you to do me a favor."_

_"O-of course," she gasped as she held onto his shoulders. "Anything… anything…"_

_"You remember your 'friend' April don't you baby?" he asked. "You remember that bitch right?" He thrust into her harder earning himself a loud moan. "She wants to take me away from you baby. She's jealous of you and she wants me all to herself."_

_"She-she can't!" she cried. "You're mine."_

_"I know I'm yours," he whispered back. "That's why you have to show her who's boss. You have to show her she doesn't own this place and she can't just try to walk all over you."_

_"I-I will," she managed to reply as another moan escaped her lips her head falling forward onto his shoulder. "I'll show her… I'll b-beat her ass and-oh god!" Her voice rose sharply as he powered into her again, grinning over her shoulder the whole time. He knew just how to twist these women right around his finger… he'd done it to Beth and many women before her, and now he was going to do it to Eve. She was going to do exactly what he wanted her to do and so much more. _


	13. Chapter 13

"So the appeal request is officially in the system?" Punk asked.

"It's confirmed," David assured him. "It'll go for review before the judge and if it's granted we'll be allowed to start retesting evidence and interviewing witnesses to testify in April's favor. Now you're sure you're not going to be able to get that waitress who talked to you to testify?"

"I doubt it," Punk replied with a sigh. "She wouldn't even tell me her name. I had to learn it from AJ."

"Well try her again," David advised. "In the mean time I have a lot of paperwork to fill out and a reasonably affordable testing lab to find so I'll be in touch. But before we hang up is there anything else you need to tell me? Anything that's going on? Are you ok? Is April?"

Punk bit his lip. He wished he could tell David he was being followed because he was positive David was being followed too. He wanted to tell the lawyer that all their lives were at risk now and that the fact that he'd slept with the inmate they were trying to save had been recently discovered by the most volatile guard in the prison… but he kept his mouth shut. He couldn't risk David getting cold feet and backing out of the case all together the way Punk himself nearly did. "Everything's fine," he said.

"Good," David replied. "I'll be in touch." He hung up.

It had been a week now since he slept with AJ and Randy inadvertently learned the truth, and nothing about his life made sense anymore. Never in all his life, not when he was getting into trouble constantly as a boy and barely escaping high school or when turned his life around and to everyone's shock became a corrections officer did his life seem so crazy. He was elbow deep in a legal case he never should have gotten anywhere near and his own life (and possibly more) was at stake because of it, and now the boss's pet was breathing down his neck. But somehow none of that mattered as much as the impossible bubbling heat he felt scorching through his veins whenever he thought about her.

He didn't understand why his head was so clouded. For some reason everything else seemed so much less important than his memory of that one beautiful night. He couldn't stop thinking about the way her lips tasted or how smooth and perfect her whole body was, or how good it felt to be inside her. Every time her eyes sheepishly met his throughout the day anywhere on the cell block he felt his chest tighten a little. Even as insane as those thoughts made him feel, as dark and twisted he was sure enjoying it that much made him (she was a prisoner damn it!) he couldn't get her out of his head. She'd gotten underneath his skin and it seemed like she wasn't leaving any time soon.

_I'm insane, _he thought. _I have to be completely fucking crazy to even think about doing this again. It crosses every line and boundary I'm sworn by and I should just leave it as a heat of the moment mistake that should never happen again… _but oh god did he want her again. He wanted her so badly it was driving him even crazier then he already thought he was.

He could barely even focus on his shift that day when he ran into Christian at lunch. "I heard something interesting from Hawkins that I think we need to talk about," his friend told him. "A lot of things actually. Why don't we go to the parking lot and talk about them?"

"Isn't your lunch break not for another hour?" Punk asked trying to sidestep the issue.

"We switched," Christian answered, "because it's clear to me you need someone older and wiser than you to beat some much needed sense into your thick skull."

"I'm your superior," Punk reminded him gruffly. "I don't have to listen to you."

"Do I look like I care?" Christian asked grabbing his arm. "Come on." They weaved through the complicated building and moments later found themselves in the parking lot sitting on the edge of the open trunk of Christian's SUV. Calmly unwrapping his sandwich Christian shot him a sidelong glance. "So before you open your mouth to defend yourself I already know you fucked Mendez and I already know you're paying for her lawyer to try to get her out."

"Then I guess we don't have much to talk about then huh?" Punk asked. Earlier in the week hearing all of these facts about his life laid out like this might have made him cringe. But now he was almost at a point where he didn't care about how bad they sounded anymore.

Christian smacked him on the back of the head. "Don't try to give me any lip like that," he scolded. "You may be my superior but that doesn't mean you're smarter than me." He furrowed his brow. "Phil what are you getting yourself into here? You can't get laid anywhere else so you take your pick of one of the prettier girls here because it's easy? And now you're paying for her lawyer?"

"That's not what it's about!" Punk snapped with a scowl. "I don't know what Curt told you but that's not what's going on here. I started looking into her case before this happened ok? Some of the details of how it happened didn't sit right with me so I met with her lawyer and agreed to pay him so he could do it right this time around. We didn't do anything until later. And it was just once. A mistake."

"Really?" Christian asked. "Because your face tells me you don't think it was a mistake. Your face tells me you a couple of things, that you don't think it was a mistake and you want it to happen again, and that there's a lot more happening with this case then what you've told Curt."

Punk shook his head but he knew the shame was written all over his face. "You're wrong."

"I'm right," Christian replied. "So tell me."

Punk sighed. There was no point in trying to hide it from Christian who was just going to dig and dig until he learned the answer so he told him about being kicked out of Steve Austin's club, being followed and now Randy threatening him. "I don't know why I'm being followed or who it is but I have a feeling it's related to the owner of the club and the things the waitress Paige told me."

"So you're willing to get corned in an alley and stabbed then, for this woman you barely know?" Christian asked. "Or at the very least throw your career away? You're willing to risk everything?"

"Yes Christian I'm willing to risk everything!" Punk shouted.

"Why?" Christian demanded.

"Because I think-" Punk cut himself off before his rambling mind could trick him into saying anything else. "She's different. She's not like the rest and she doesn't deserve to be here, I just know it. I want to get her the fuck out of this hell hole. I want to save her.

"With your dick?" Christian asked.

"I'm not talking about this anymore Christian," Punk replied gruffly with an angry scowl. "I'm done." He hopped off the edge of the trunk and started walking back through the parking lot to the prison.

"Punk wait," Christian begged. "Come on. I'm just trying to look out for you!"

But Punk just waved him off. He couldn't imagine walking out of the prison with his last paycheck in shame or lying in a pool of blood behind a seedy strip club or being beaten to death on the roof of his apartment building. He couldn't bear to discover the secrets he was hiding from himself.

* * *

AJ felt like she was walking on egg shells all week. Things were much more complicated now and she didn't know where she stood with anything in her prison bound life, including Punk. How was she supposed to feel now? Being so close to him, skin against beautiful inked skin as his gasps and groans filled her ears awakened things inside her she didn't even know existed. What did this mean for her, or for him? What did it mean for her case? She could barely even focus on it now especially when she got word from David (through Punk) that it would be likely be several months before she even saw the inside of court room. Her appeal and new trial seemed so far away, even in spite of the danger she knew Punk was facing when he left work each day. Somehow what was going on inside her head and her heart seemed far more immediate than anything else.

She found herself becoming increasingly distracted as the days wore on, tapping her pen on the edge of her sketchbook instead of drawing and staring out the barred window instead of eating (not that prison slop was very appetizing anyway). That was why when Eve stalked through the cafeteria toward her she didn't even notice. She was completely blindsided when the furious inmate dragged her off the bench and threw her right to the floor. "You bitch!" Eve screeched. Her eyes were wild with fury and she was definitely on a mission to cause some serious pain.

"What the hell?" AJ cried as she scrambled to her feet. "What was that for?"

"You'll never take him from me you dirty slut!" She shoved AJ back against the table as the rest of the cafeteria began crowding around them. As AJ hit the floor she was suddenly struck with memories of Beth, and she knew what was going to happen next- she was in for the beating of her life. She raised her arms in preparation to protect herself, to strike back and not be the defenseless little thing she was before, but what came next rendered her completely struck dumb. She barely even saw it at first, just a quick swipe of Eve's arm and the faint ripping sound of fabric.

But after just a short moment passed, AJ realized what happened. There was some sort of sharpened file sticking out of her side. As soon as she looked at it the blood around the wound began to spread, soaking the orange fabric of her jumpsuit a deep red. At first she couldn't feel any real pain, just a mild stinging from the entry point as she slowly brushed her fingertips around the wound, and they came away stained with blood. But a second later it hit her, an agonizing throb that surged through her entire body. She felt her knees starting to give and sometime later she could hear the sickening sound that echoed when her body crumpled to the harsh tile floor beneath her.

In reality only a moment passed from the time when she was stabbed to when she hit the ground even though it felt like an eternity. She was only mildly aware of officers crowding around her then, some slamming Eve to the ground and others scrambling to pick her up off the floor.

"AJ?" she could hear Punk cry. "AJ hold on, you're going to be ok. You're going to be ok I promise! Just hold on… someone get a fucking stretcher, call a goddamn ambulance now!"

Her eyes fluttered shut.


	14. Chapter 14

_"Punk you could have left 2 hours ago," Curt reminded him. "You know that right?"_

_"I don't care," Punk said flatly."I'm not leaving her alone."_

_"You wouldn't be leaving her alone," Curt pointed out. "I'd be here."_

_"Curt I'm not leaving so just deal with it ok?" Punk sighed._

_"I'm just saying," Curt muttered. "They're not gonna pay both of us to be here. It's one tiny girl handcuffed to the bed in a private room that can be locked from the outside."_

_"I don't care if they don't pay me!" Punk narrowed his eyes. "I just want to be here."_

_Curt rolled his eyes. "That's right, I forgot. You're in love with the inmate you fucked on your desk whose lawyer you're paying for because you think she's innocent and then people who probably work for the crazy buffed up redneck she used to work for are following you and are probably going to kill you and-"_

_"Shut the fuck up already!" Punk snapped. "That's….. not what it's about. I'm just worried. I don't want to leave her here in case anything happens."_

_"Ouch that hurt," Curt muttered. "Have no faith in me huh?"_

_"That's not what it is Curt and you know it," Punk replied with a scowl. "I just think Randy had something to do with this, because he finds out a day ago and then the next day at lunch the girl he's currently fucking, Torres, freaks out and stabs her with a shank. That one has been in fights before but she's never done a stabbing and never unprovoked. I think she was put up to this."_

_"So you think I can't handle an ambush from Orton, is that it?" Curt asked._

_It was Punk's turn to roll his eyes now. "Why don't you go on break Curt?"_

It was the sound of the door shutting that finally roused AJ from her deep sleep. Her eyelids felt heavy as they fluttered open and the room came slowly into focus. She was lying in what appeared to be a hospital bed, in a small private room. She could hear the soft intermittent beep of the machine that monitored her heart rate. Even with consciousness returning took her a moment to realize Punk was sitting in the chair next to her bed and staring straight at her. "Punk?" she whispered drowsily.

The normally hardened and sarcastic prison guard smiled warmly at her. "I'm here," he replied.

"What happened?" she asked weakly. The fact that she was obviously in a hospital room told her she was either injured or ill somehow but she didn't feel anything out of the ordinary other than a general cloudy feeling and all over soreness. That couldn't be why she was here but she couldn't remember what it was that could have been so serious that it couldn't be treated in the medical ward of the prison.

"You don't remember?" he asked and she shook her head slowly. With a sigh and a frown he gently pulled her blanket back and lifted up the bottom of her hospital gown to reveal the big white bandage on her lower stomach just to the right of her belly button.

"Oh my god!" she gasped in horror as she pawed at the bandage. Tears began to form in her eyes, she couldn't believe. "But it's so big! Why can't I feel it?"

"Probably the pain meds," he explained calmly.

"Then what happened?"

He took a deep breath. "You were stabbed with a homemade weapon at lunch," he replied. "You passed out when you hit the floor and you were losing blood fast so we rushed you to the hospital. They gave you a few units of blood but kept you under because they had to surgically remove what you were stabbed with to avoid further tearing. Luckily it didn't hit any organs so it was quick and they were able to stitch it up after. You'll probably have a scar though. They also gave you a tetanus shot."

In spite of everything she actually found herself chuckling. Maybe the pain medication was making her a little loopy? "You sound like a doctor," she said.

"Well I'm just repeating what they said," he admitted. "How are you feeling?"

"Now that you showed me my stab wound I'm starting to feel it," she replied with a wince, squirming uncomfortably in her bed. It was only then as she tried to lift her left arm to readjust the blanket that she realized she'd been handcuffed to one of the railings on the bed. "Ouch. That's annoying."

"Sorry," he sighed. "It's sort of a rule because we had to leave the prison."

She nodded. "I had a feeling." When she fell silent for a moment to rub her uncomfortable metal-rubbed wrist it hit her that she didn't even remember how this happened, who it actually was who stabbed her. "Punk," she said softly, "who did this to me?"

The generally surly prison guard bit his lip. "You remember Eve Torres right?" he asked. "She attacked you in the cafeteria. She's the one who stabbed you."

Tears welled up in her eyes. Bits and pieces of the short fight drifted back to her. She remembered the sharp pain, crashing to the floor as she saw drops of blood stain her fingertips. "But why?" she whispered. "What did I do? This is the second time I've been attacked. Why me?"

"I think it may have something to do with Randy," he admitted. "I can't be sure but I'm almost positive. The other day he came up behind me and Curt in the hallway… he saw the bruise you left on my neck. I didn't say anything about it but he put it together faster than I could deny it."

"You think he… you think he asked Eve to hurt me?" she asked, stifling a gasp.

He nodded. "I've seen it before," he replied. "Whenever he decides he's used up an inmate and wants to push her aside for the next one he'll convince them to start a fight. Then they'll get thrown into solitary for awhile and his next pick will be free and safe from jealousy while he's with them."

"But he's not going after me," she pointed out hopefully. "Right?"

"I don't think so," he agreed. "But he also uses them for other reasons too. I think he was using her to get to you… and by getting to you, to get to me. I think it's a warning."

"A warning?" she echoed nervously. She frowned. "But… a warning for what"

"That's what I'm not sure about," he admitted. "I can't figure out if he's fucking with me because he knows I care about you or if it's because he knows about your trial. And even if he did I don't know how he's connected to it at all. It's been driving me crazy since we got you here."

All of the deception and possible conspiracies were running through her head at top speed now. She suddenly began to wonder if Randy may be involved in the entire ordeal… and if he knew about Punk paying for her attorney to try to get her conviction overturned then he might bring it to the warden and get him fired… then what would he do? Then who would protect her? But something else stuck out in his last statement too. Something that shone bright lights at her even in spite of the possible horrors the two of them were about to face. "Did you just say you care about me?" she asked.

"Huh?" He'd been looking down at his hands but now he looked up at her. "What?"

"You heard me," she challenged. "You said Randy knows you care about me."

He sighed and rubbed his arm. "Of course I care about you." His gaze ducked away again.

"What's that?" she asked squinting at him. Something bright blue suddenly jumped out her from the crook of his arm. She grabbed his hand with her free arm to try to move it away.

"It's nothing," he insisted.

"It's something!" she prodded.

"Fine," he said with another sigh. He moved his hand back and revealed it to be a bandage.

"Why did you get that?" she asked quietly.

He looked down again. "I gave blood," he replied cryptically.

"Gave blood," she echoed. "So while you were waiting here for me to get out of surgery and wake up you decided to just go donate blood? Come on now tell me the truth!"

"Yes," he replied earnestly. "You needed blood. Turns out we're the same type. Quit making a big fucking deal out of it, I was just doing what needed to be done. That's all!"

"You do care don't you," she whispered. It was her turn to look away now, down at her arm that had an IV snaking into it. She knew now that only a few hours ago it wasn't fluids to rehydrate her but blood spiraling into her veins, his blood. He'd given her back life when it was slipping away.

"Now you're zoning out and getting all emotional," Punk sighed. "Fucking women. Shit."

"Hey," she scolded. "Don't be an asshole. Come here and give me a kiss."

He laughed. "Really?" he asked. "Now?"

"Yes now. Give me a kiss because you care about me." He stood up and leaned over her to press his lips to hers. She shivered as she felt his bead brush sharply against her cheeks, marveling like the last time she kissed at the electricity that leapt so easily between them. By the time he pulled away she could barely even feel the pain in her stomach anymore. "Now tell me you love me," she whispered.

He shook his head. "No."

"I know you do," she said. "I know you do or you wouldn't have done all this. I know it!"

"I'm not saying it," he said gruffly. "You're fucking delusional AJ. I'm not doing this right now."

"If I'm delusional," she asked, "then why are you blushing?"

* * *

_"She was stabbed," Vince announced. "Non-fatal of course. She's in the hospital now recovering."_

_"Good," Austin replied."If she died it would be too suspicious. So do you think this'll get that guard of yours off the wagon now? Because if him and that lawyer don't quit poking around we might have a fucking problem. I don't want a problem Vince. From the beginning I said I didn't want a problem."_

_"Do you think I want this any less than you do?" Vince snapped. "Don't treat me like a fool Austin. I know what and how high the stakes are just as well as you do. I don't want any of this bullshit to come back to haunt us so I'm having my men take care of this like I said I would."_

_"And what if your men don't take care of it?" Austin shot back hotly. "I'm not going to prison McMahon. I'm not fucking doing it. If your boys can't get it done then mine will and that's the bottom line. We already have eyes on this Brooks asshole and I can have him tossed over the side of a boat in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean in less than an hour."_

_"Don't jump the gun," Vince urged. "Neither of us are going down for this. It will be taken care of and the two of them will be lucky to be alive when this is through."_

_"Good," Austin growled. "As long as I come out on top I don't care."_

_"Neither do I."_

_"I'm glad we have an understanding then." The line went dead._


	15. Chapter 15

AJ had to remain in the hospital for the next several days while she recovered from surgery and during that time Punk didn't leave the building at all. He didn't care how suspicious it would look that he had suddenly become her around the clock guard, his number one priority right now was ensuring that she was safe and that was why he never strayed further then the vending machines down the hall. He didn't care how bad it would look at work, or that his friend in the green Toyota had likely followed him to the hospital and hadn't left the parking lot since he got here. He was almost positive Randy was behind AJ's stabbing and for that he held himself solely responsible. He wasn't going to let it happen again.

"You should just leave the shirt off," AJ teased as she watched him change into another fresh uniform that Curt had brought him. "I like staring at your chest."

Punk just rolled his eyes as he shrugged into his shirt. "Those pain meds still getting you high huh?" he asked throwing the used shirt in his bag and sitting down. "You know I have to take you back in a few hours when the last of it wears off and they give me your discharge papers."

"I know," she said softly.

"But you'll be spending another week or so in the prison medical ward and no one is ever left alone there so you'll be safe," he assured her quickly. "Ok?"

She didn't respond instead looking down at the handcuffs that lay next to her. As a courtesy he usually left it off until they heard footsteps coming up the hallway that signaled a nurse or doctor or orderly coming to check on her, and she would quickly attach her wrist to the bed railing again. It was a slightly nerve wracking way to live but it was better than being in prison. On her second day in the hospital she was almost tempted to yank her IV out and dehydrate herself so she could spend more time there, because even a sterile hospital room that smelled like disinfectant was better than her dank cell and being surrounded by dangerous women she was sure could overwhelm her in minutes.

And even more than that, AJ felt such a sense of wonderful normalcy being here with him like this. After teasing him when she woke up about loving her things were almost strangely light between them. She'd never experienced him in an easy, joking mood before. He seemed calm with her now, teasing her back just as much as he always kept a watchful eye on the door. To her it almost felt like she was out again, spending a casual few days with a boyfriend (the fact that she was recovering from a severe stabbing she had recently received aside). But it couldn't last, they both knew it couldn't. The time was drawing near when both of them would have to return to the prison.

"What are you going to do next?" she asked him finally after a long awkward silence. She didn't have to clarify what she was talking about, she knew he already knew.

"Well…" He sighed. "You're not gonna like it, but I need to get to the bottom of what's going on. I don't know why Randy cares so much that I slept with you when he could have his pick of anyone inside the prison or out. So call me completely insane but I think it's connected somehow. I need to talk to that waitress again AJ. Paige right? But I can't find her address or phone number. It's like she doesn't exist. And I can't go back to that club without probably getting killed. How do I find her?"

AJ went silent again, thinking long and hard. As much as Punk putting himself in danger again terrified her she knew he was right. He had to get to the bottom of this somehow. "Does the prison keep everything I had with me when I came from the court house after sentencing?" she asked.

"Of course," he replied. "It's all stored in intake until the inmate is released, if they ever are. Why?"

"I had my cell phone with me when I got to the prison," she explained. "I have Paige's number. If you could get my cell phone somehow, you could get in contact with her."

Smiling, he impulsively leaned over and kissed her forehead. "You're a genius," he whispered.

* * *

A few hours later in the early afternoon the inevitable discharge papers were handed down. After they got AJ's reluctant signature Punk helped her change out of her hospital gown and back into a prison jumpsuit. "I think the last time I touched one of these jumpsuits I was tearing it off you," he whispered with a chuckle, attempting to lighten her grim mood but she merely grimaced in response. He sighed. "I'm sorry AJ. But if everything works out hopefully you won't have to wear one for much longer."

"I hope so," she whispered. Then she kissed him. "I'm going to miss being able to do this when I want."

"Well when I get you out of there you can do that again," he said.

"Huh?" she asked with raised eyebrows, staring up at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

He quickly looked away to hide his rapidly reddening cheeks. "Nothing," he muttered. He needed to catch himself more quickly with the ridiculous things that were slipping out of his mouth. Surely he was going insane to be saying crazy things like that to her… he needed to get his head together. "Don't worry about it. I'm tired, that's all." He zipped up her jumpsuit. "Come on. We have to go." He led her down to the front entrance where an officer was waiting with a police cruiser. Punk couldn't just drive her back in his own car, that was against protocol. Everything had to go through official transfers.

He sat up front with the local patrol officer who would be driving them back to the prison, casually glancing into the rear view mirror to keep an eye on AJ. He saw her turning around uncomfortably in her seat wincing as she stared back at the hospital that was rapidly disappearing around the corner. He had a pretty good idea of what she was thinking and feeling right now. The pain of being dragged away from even what little relative freedom being in the hospital gave her was easily visible on her face.

As he sighed and sat back in his seat he had to go over what he was going to do next. As much as delving deeper into this secret world that was revolving around AJ's conviction, he had already gone this far and it was too late to turn back. For both of their sakes now he had to get to the bottom of this.

Christian met them at the gate as it locked behind them. "I'll take her to the medical wing," he said as he took AJ by the arm but frowned as Punk walked past him. "Where the hell are you going?"

"What does it look like?" Punk asked. "Inside."

"But you're off for the rest of the day and tomorrow," Christian pointed out. "You've been on call for 4 days straight. They'll kick you out if you don't get your ass home. Not because they care about you getting fatigued I'm sure, but because they probably hate the idea of paying you overtime."

"I'm not staying," Punk assured him. "I just need to get something from my locker."

"You're lying," Christian said, glancing at him strangely.

"Of course I am." He backed them slowly against a pillar, and because he knew where all of the cameras' blind spots where he was able to turn his back to prying eyes and kiss AJ. "I'll see you guys later."

"Punk!" AJ scolded in a whisper but she was blushing.

Christian just rolled his eyes. "You know Phil I'm getting tired of having to be your dad," he said. "I'm only 6 years older than you. I'm too young to have a 34 year old son!"

"Thanks for watching my back!" Punk walked in without looking back. He knew he had to get to the intake inventory storage quickly. If he was spotted before then, they would tell him to leave. So he weaved his way in and out of different rooms and hallways in the administrative wing, studiously avoiding anyone who would care enough to report him to the boss. Finally he reached the storage room, using his keys (being a lieutenant he didn't need to sign in or out for access to this room) to get inside and quickly close the door behind him. There were hundreds of shelves all lined with large brown paper bags labeled with names and inmate numbers in permanent marker. They all contained the clothes and items that arrived with inmates who were brought directly from court. He knew well enough that some of the dirtier guards in here had raided this room before, going through the bags to take anything they could find that was valuable, like jewelry or electronics. He hoped AJ's phone wasn't expensive.

It didn't take him long to find AJ's bag by going in alphabetical order. It was toward the front of the M shelf because she was a newer arrival. He carefully opened the bag so he wouldn't tear the staples, biting his lip as he reached inside. Shirt… skirt… a pair of heels… a purse. He quickly pulled it out and as he unzipped it he almost felt a little guilty sifting through AJ's belongings. But it was a stupid thing to worry about. He was doing this for her, and he needed to work fast. He searched through the purse until he found it, the thankfully small and old looking flip phone that had a crack in the screen. She hadn't been kidding when she said she was hurting for money. No wonder she took that job…

Glancing around nervously he tried to turn it on. It was dead. He would have to take it home then and somehow dig up a charger for it, maybe buy one if he couldn't find it… but he would have to figure that out later. For now he needed to get out of here before he risked someone seeing him coming out of the intake storage room. He slipped the phone into his pocket and packed everything back into the bag, putting it up on the shelf and slipping out of the room. AJ would be fine in the supervised medical unit for now. In the meantime he would have to work on getting in contact with the terrified waitress.

* * *

Punk ended up stopping at Radio Shack on the way home to find a charger for AJ's phone. On his way to the parking lot he even thought about waving to the car he knew was tailing him but didn't want to push it. He decided he'd be safer if the guy didn't know Punk knew he existed. He forced himself to just walk out casually and head home, instead focusing on powering up this phone and seeing what he could find.

It took half an hour for the phone to have enough of a charge to turn on. He was sitting on his couch the whole time, his knees bouncing nervously as he waited for it. He was even more nervous about actually calling the girl. What would he say to her anyway? 'I need you to put your life at risk to help me again'? He sighed. He would figure that out when he called her, once this damn thing loaded. Finally the cracked screen blinked to life. Sighing with relief he began to scroll through the contacts list until he reached her- Paige. There it was. He quickly entered the number into his own cell phone and after taking a long, deep breath he hit the call button. It picked up after a few rings.

"You're lucky I'm on break or I wouldn't have answered," said a female British voice. "Who is this?"

"Paige?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied impatiently. "Who is this?"

"It's Phil," he replied. "I'm the prison guard you talked to a few weeks ago remember?"

"What?" she practically shrieked. "How did you get this number? I can't talk to you!"

"Paige please," he begged. "Don't hang up. I need to hear the whole story. Lives are at stake."

"So is mine if I keep talking to you!" she said in a hushed whisper. "I told you this was bigger then you understand. If I even try to get involved then I might-"

"I'm being followed," he interrupted. "Every day and every night since I first spoke to you. Almost 5 days ago AJ was stabbed by another prisoner and I'm sure it was at the direction of another guard here. She's alive but she barely made it out. If you don't give me the full story so I can get to the bottom of what's going on, it might not matter anymore. We all might be dead."

She was silent for a long moment. "I don't know," she muttered. "If anyone finds out…"

"Just tell me over the phone," he said. "Call me when you get home."

"But once you start investigating everything, they'll know someone told!" she exclaimed. "And I'm one of the only ones who knows the whole story. It won't take them long to find out who talked!"

"Then I'll protect you from them," he assured her before he could even think about what exactly it was that he was offering. "You can stay at my apartment."

"You can't even protect April, how will you protect me?" she spat.

That one stung him right to the core. She was right, he couldn't protect AJ. That's why she was lying in the medical wing right now recovering from a vicious stab wound. That was his fault and anything that happened to either of these young women from now on was going to be his fault too… But he had to figure something out. "Think about it," Punk replied finally. "Rosa was killed for knowing too much wasn't she? And AJ was just around to take the fall. How much longer before something like that happens again? When you wind up dead in the parking lot for knowing too much, or being a scapegoat like AJ and going to prison for 25 or 30 years or even the rest of your life?"

It was Paige's turn to be silent now. "How will you get me to where you live then?" she whispered. "You said you're being followed so then they'll see you if you pick me up!"

He sighed closing his eyes for a moment as he tried to think. "Take a bus or a train," he answered. "I'll pay for the ticket. Wear a jacket with a hood. They aren't following you so when you come into my building you'll just look like any other girl coming home. You probably won't be able to leave after that though so make sure you have everything you need."

"I've only met you once," she said nervously. "Now I'm just supposed to trust you have my best interests at heart and come to stay with you? What if I'm putting myself into an even worse situation?"

"I don't know what to tell you Paige," he replied. "You're right, you have no reason to trust me except to just go based off what I've told you. You can either believe me that I'm trying to help AJ out and by extension you, or not. But I do think the longer you stay there, the more danger you're in."

There was another long pause. "How long will it take you to send me the money then?" she asked.


	16. Chapter 16

_"One of my waitresses has gone missing," Austin said gruffly._

_"So?" Dean asked nonchalantly. "Your club whores take off all the time. Sometimes they come back and sometimes they don't. Who cares? They're replaceable."_

_"This one isn't," Austin replied. "It's Paige."_

_Dean groaned and smacked his forehead. "You're fucking with me. She just disappeared?"_

_"She hasn't been to work in 2 days," Austin explained. "She isn't answering her home or cell phone. I need you and your boys to find her Dean. This is a top priority."_

_"Higher priority than following this prison guard you've had us on for weeks?" Dean asked."Because I gotta tell ya boss, this shit is getting pretty fucking boring."_

_"Top fucking priority Ambrose!" Austin snapped. "The guard might be an issue later on but Paige could be a threat right now. She's been around too fucking long and she knows way too fucking much. If she's turned on us and starts talking… I don't think I need to tell you what will happen."_

_"Remind me again why you haven't let us kill her yet?" Dean muttered with a sigh._

_"You know why," Austin growled in reply. "The only reason she's still around is because I owe it to her mother not to take her ass out after everything she's heard over the years."_

_"Charity doesn't last forever," Dean reminded him. "What do you want us to do when we find her?"_

_"Loose ends need to be tied," Austin said coldly. "You know what to do." He hung up."_

_Dean took one last drag on his cigarette before stamping it out on the nearest car trunk and flicking it away. He crossed the parking lot and got back into the Toyota, where Seth was glancing down at his phone and Roman was staring intently through a pair of sleek black binoculars. "Game's changed boys," he announced. "We're headed back to Jersey tonight."_

_"What's the target?" Roman asked as he lowered the binoculars._

_"Paige," Dean replied._

_Seth whistled. "What a shame," he said. "She's a good fuck."_

_"Was a good fuck," Roman corrected. "And I didn't know you banged her."_

_"Of course I did," Seth chuckled. "So did you."_

_"We all did," Dean grumbled. "Not anymore. Come on. We've got a drive ahead of us."_

* * *

After spending nearly 5 straight days solely in Punk's company at the hospital being alone in the medical wing of the prison was a strange transition for AJ. Not that she was actually alone, there were plenty of nurses and other patients and low level guards milling around. But without him sitting next to her and cracking sarcastic jokes and making her feel just a little bit better and less hopeless about her situation she felt so alone now. At least he was right, there was no way another inmate or guard (Randy, really) would be able to get to her while she was here. She would be safe for now.

But she had to admit, even as she lay back in bed in relative safety listening to the intermittent beep of the monitors around her that she was worried about Punk. Their idea to contact Paige seemed simple enough but AJ knew better than anyone how dangerous things were around Austin's club. How would that girl (who was even younger than AJ) even get out alive if she had the courage to tell Punk everything she knew? This was rapidly turning into more than just her own personal hell, it was dragging other people down with her too now. Without her sketch book to keep her mind occupied all she could do was worry about him and now Paige as well.

She breathed a sigh of relief when he was allowed to return to work 2 days later from his time off. It was just before 7 AM when she saw him duck into the medical wing trying to act as casual as possible as he pulled a chair up to her bedside. "Hey," he half whispered. "I can only stay for a few minutes. My shift starts soon and I'm probably already in hot water as it is."

"I'm just glad to see you," she whispered back glancing up to make sure the nurse wasn't near her before slipping her hand out from under her blanket and linking it with his. He looked away but he couldn't hide the sheepish smile forming on his face. "How did it go with… you know?"

He looked back at her. "She hasn't told me everything yet because she's afraid," Punk explained. "So I told her I would look after her. She's been hiding out at a motel since I called her so she could wait for the money I wired her to clear so she could buy a train ticket to get down here from Jersey. It leaves in the afternoon and she'll be here by tonight hopefully."

"So she's gonna be staying at your apartment?" she asked uncertainly. "But what if she doesn't show up? What if she just takes your money and runs off?"

"Well she won't get far because it was only $130," he said with a chuckle. "But she'll show up."

"Just be careful," she warned nervously. "You're being watched aren't you?"

"Actually that's the weird thing," he admitted. "I haven't seen the car for 2 days now. I thought at first maybe they switched cars or were just getting better at following me but I haven't noticed any cars in the prison parking lot or the lot of my building that I don't recognize. No one's following me."

"Is that a good sign?" she asked with a frown. It didn't make sense to her.

"I'm not sure," he replied. "But regardless she's taking a taxi from the train station and walking into my building like she lives there or is visiting someone else. No one will think she's coming to me."

"I hope not." She glanced up at the clock on the wall. "It's almost 7. You should go."

He nodded as he stood up, glancing up at the nurse's turned back again before pressing a comforting kiss to her forehead. She couldn't help but chuckle as he left, it was fun sometimes to act like a nervous high school couple ducking around. But with a sigh she had to remind herself that this wasn't a game. This was a serious matter of life and death and each day it progressed brought them closer to danger.

* * *

Punk spent the day avoiding Randy at all costs. He wasn't afraid of that bastard by any means and it did make him feel like less of a man to be dodging confrontation, but at heart he knew it would be best for AJ for him not to provoke any further violence from the testy guard. He went about his patrol rounds as quietly as possible ducking out after his shift was over, knowing he wouldn't have time to catch up on paperwork tonight with Paige's impending arrival. He had to be there.

He still didn't see anyone following him when he drove home that night. He took a long, winding and unnecessary route home just to make sure but any cars he saw around him near the prison weren't nearby by the time he pulled into the parking lot at his building. He was nervous as he hurried up to his apartment, what if she didn't show up as AJ was afraid of? Then all of this would be in vain.

But at around 9:30 his cell phone rang. "Phil?" a female voice asked quickly as he answered. "The taxi just dropped me off at your address. What floor are you on again? I don't remember."

He sighed with relief, she was here! "4th floor," he replied. "Apartment 426. It's right across from the elevator." A few minutes later there was a soft knock on his door. He opened it to find a thin young woman standing in his doorway, a little taller than AJ. Her pale skin and long black hair were hidden beneath the blue hood of the jacket she wore just as he had instructed her to.

"Can I come in?" Paige asked nervously glancing up and down the hallway.

"Oh right," Punk said with a nod. "Sorry." He stepped back to allow her inside quickly closing and locking the door behind her. Although he was fairly sure he wasn't being followed anymore he didn't want to take any chances of her being seen coming into his apartment.

"Thanks for taking me in," she said softly. "Can I… put this down?" She glanced at the duffel bag slung over her shoulder of which she was clutching the strap.

"Yeah of course," he replied nodding again. He reached to take the bag from her and set it down next to the couch. The awkwardness between them was readily apparent with each interaction. "Sorry. I'm not really good at this. I haven't really done this before."

Paige chuckled. "You mean sheltered a strip club waitress from her dangerous employers so you can help overturn the conviction of your innocent girlfriend who is in prison?" she asked.

"Well when you put it that way I guess that sums it up," he agreed with a small smile. He was glad she'd been able to break the ice between them so easily. "But… well, she's not really my girlfriend. Kind of hard to date someone when they're behind bars and being watched almost 24 hours a day."

"But you like her don't you?" she asked. "Why else would you be doing this? Your explanation of believing she's innocent and a good person is nice but there's obviously more to it. I think you love her."

He just looked away from her, his eyes falling to the floor as he rubbed the back of his neck. He didn't want to even think about what she was saying right now let alone talk about it.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I guess that's a sensitive subject. I'll leave that alone."

He just shrugged. "Don't worry. It's fine." He picked up her bag and led her to his room. "I've only got one bedroom so you can just crash in mine. I'll sleep on the couch."

"I couldn't take your bed!" she said quickly shaking her head. "I'll just…"

"Don't worry about it," he assured her. "I've been turning your entire life upside down just so you can help me out. The least I can do is make sure you've got a comfortable bed while this gets sorted out."

"Ok, if you're sure," she said softly, glancing around the room. It was cleaner than anyone would have expected a bachelor's bedroom to be, he had tidied it up considerably for her. "So… now what?"

"AJ's lawyer is coming to meet us," he replied. "I told him we can't go back to New Jersey so he's going to come here and tape your testimony to be presented as new evidence to reopen the case."

She shivered a little. "This is really happening isn't it?" she asked.

He nodded. "Are you going to tell us everything?"

"I have to," she replied with a sigh. "If I don't then there's no point in risking everything for it."

* * *

AJ was released from the medical wing a few days earlier than originally planned due to overcrowding. A much older prisoner who was riddled with cancer needed her bed so she was escorted back to her cell while she was still sore and tender. She clutched her side as Officer Rhodes all but shoved her into her cell, slamming and locking the door behind her.

"Well look who's still alive," Natalya chuckled.

"Of course I'm alive," AJ sighed. "You would probably have gotten a new cell mate by now if I wasn't."

"Hey I was kind of getting used to having the place to myself." Natalya smirked and laid back on her bunk. "It's nice being able to sleep without hearing you cry in your sleep."

"I cry in my sleep?" AJ asked with a slight frown.

"Sometimes," Natalya answered with a shrug. Then she smirked knowingly. "One time I heard you whispering a name. You were muttering 'oh Punk, oh Punk…"

"What?" AJ practically shrieked instantly blushing. "No I wasn't!" But as she quickly averted her cell mate's gaze, looking everywhere but Natalya she knew it could very well be true. Some nights she did fall asleep remembering the angry, passionate evening she spent with Punk in his office.

"You're right," Natalya replied as her grin widened. "You didn't but you're bright red now, that's all I needed. You totally did sleep with Officer Brooks didn't you? I knew it! Maybe that's why Eve stabbed you… she's a jealous girl that one. Maybe she likes him so she tried to get you out of the way."

AJ wasn't about to confirm Natalya's suspicions but she wouldn't deny them either, that would just make her more sure she was right. "I doubt that," she muttered. "Eve's just a crazy bitch!"

"Yeah you're probably right," Natalya agreed with a nod. "She was sleeping with Orton anyway. But I guess not anymore now that she's in solitary for jabbing you good!" Then she smiled again. "Hey maybe that's why she stabbed you, because Orton told her to. Because he couldn't get _you_."

"I don't know why you think I'm such a hot ticket," AJ growled. "I'm just any other girl."

"No you're new," Natalya said. "It makes you appealing."

AJ just shook her head. Her cell mate had no idea what was going on. With a soft groan she reached for the ladder to climb to her bunk. She laid herself down and sighed as she stared up at the porous concrete ceiling. She just had to focus on the positive things that would hopefully be happening. Soon Punk was supposed to bring Paige to sit down with David and tell them both the real story behind Rosa's murder and everything that was really going on at Steve Austin's club. Then they would really get the ball rolling again… maybe she would even be out of prison by the end of the year! That might have been a little too optimistic to think about but it made her smile to imagine walking out of here someday. Now all she had to do was avoid anymore murderous inmates and sociopathic guards and she just might make it out of here alive after all.


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's note: Hello everyone it has been awhile since we have talked haha! I hope you have been enjoying No Way Out so far but I just wanted to address some reviews I have been getting. Some people have been complaining and asking why it takes me so long to update. I am really sorry I am not updating at my usual pace of a few times a week and it takes me longer these days! If I could write faster I would but it takes me some time to think up what will happen next, and I don't want to rush and just write short chapters that are not as long or good as what I want them to be. I will try to be faster but please be patient with me guys! Thank you! -MyChaosTheory**

* * *

_David turned on the video camera, making sure it was aimed properly and steady before pressing the record button. The frame showed only Paige sitting in a wooden chair against a blank wall in Punk's apartment which had been cleared of all personal affects to make the location seem as anonymous as possible. "This is personal attorney David Otunga for defendant April Mendez deposing a witness on Tuesday October 15__th__ 2013 at 10:35 AM," he said. "Please state your name and address."_

_"My name is Paige Knight," she said. "I live at 135 South Shade Lane in Union City New Jersey."_

_"How do you know April Mendez?" he asked._

_"I met her when she started waitressing at Stone Cold's Red Hot Bombshells strip club in Union City," she replied. "I work there too also as a waitress."_

_"Tell me about your boss," David said._

_"My boss's name is Steve Austin," she said nervously. "He owns the club I work in but…that's not all he does." She rubbed her arm and glanced down at the floor for a moment. "He's a criminal. He launders money through his club from prostitution and selling drugs and other things. Anyone who gets in his way ends up dead. But he never gets his hands dirty. Someone else on his payroll always does it for him."_

_"How do you know all of this?"_

_"My mother was with him for several years before she… passed away," she answered. "I've been around him since I was a kid. I've overheard and seen a lot of things happen over the years."_

_"Give me an example of a conversation you overheard that would lead you to believe Steve Austin is involved in these various types of criminal activity?"_

_"Over a year ago I was cleaning his office while he was on the phone with a man named Vince," she said. "He's a prison warden. He was talking about one of his strippers Rosa Mendes seeing a cash payment being delivered by one of Vince's guards. He said she needed to go away now because she knew too much, but it was Vince's fault because his guard was sloppy."_

_"Then what happened?"_

_"I heard Vince say he would send his man to take care of Rosa but Austin would have to pick someone to set up for it. He said when whoever he chose was convicted of the murder they would be sent to the nearest facility with a maximum security block, which Vince runs. He said the warden receives a 6 figure kick back from the state when he gets a new prisoner for max, and he and Austin could split it."_

_"And by set up for it you mean…"_

_"Vince wanted Austin to choose someone to take the fall for Rosa's murder."_

_"Who did Austin end up choosing?"_

_"April Mendez," she said softly. "Austin's men lifted her fingerprints off her hair brush in the dressing room to put on the knife Vince's guard used to stab Rosa and took hairs from it to put in her hand to make it look like they got into a fight."_

_"Do you know the name of the prison guard who killed Rosa?"_

_"Randy Orton."_

_"Paige, you just overheard all of this at different times?" David asked skeptically. "If that's true then why haven't you been killed too? What makes you different from Rosa Mendes?"_

_"I told you before, Austin used to be with my mom," she said. "I've known him since I was 8 years old. When my mom died a few years later I had no one left and he took me in. He… thinks he can trust me because he's taken care of me for so long." She looked down._

_"But now you've decided to speak up about his criminal activity," he pointed out. "Why?"_

_"This is the worst thing he's ever done," she explained. "He's had people killed and covered it up but he's never framed an innocent girl before."_

_"Then why didn't you go to the police?"_

_"Because I'm scared of him. He has these guys he hires… they do a lot of bad things…" She shivered and shook her head. "I couldn't risk it. I'm in hiding right now already. I'm sure he put his men after me when I didn't show up for work." She looked away again. "I'm risking my life by crossing him."_

* * *

"I couldn't believe it when I heard," Punk muttered with a shake of his head to an absolutely stunned AJ who sat in front of his desk. "I don't think I spoke for almost an hour after she told me and David everything." He laughed harshly. "She actually had to get up and turn the camera off because David couldn't even fucking move after all of that."

AJ just stared at him her jaw slightly agape. She could barely even begin to process everything he just relayed to her that Paige admitted the day before. It sent her head into a dizzying spin just trying to think about it. It all seemed so crazy and yet it all helped put the pieces together so perfectly. It suddenly made sense as to why Randy targeted her so quickly, why the evidence seemed so perfectly put together… "So I'm actually at the center of a giant frame job conspiracy?" she whispered finally still staring down at his desk. "And your boss is in on it too?"

"That's what she told me," he replied softly. "That means this whole prison is a war zone. And it explains why I was being followed after I showed up at the strip club. It's all a major cover up."

"Then we're in more danger then we ever thought," she said with alarm finally looking up at him. "Who knows who else in this prison is as dirty as the warden and Randy? What if they bugged your office and they're listening to us right now? And what about Paige? Oh god what if-" Her mind was racing with gruesome possibilities and she felt like even more of a terrible person for dragging Punk, her lawyer and her former co worker into this mess.

"AJ stop it," Punk snapped suddenly cutting her off. "You have to calm down. There's nothing either of us can do right now but keep things as normal as possible on the outside. Avoid Randy if you can, don't be alone on the yard or on the cellblock or in the showers. I can't look after you all the time but either Curt or Christian should be patrolling when I'm not. They don't know the full extent of what's going on but they know enough to get a hold of me if you need me. Ok?"

She nodded quickly. "Ok," she replied, soothed and comforted a little by how firm his voice sounded. "Now what happens? With the video David made of Paige?"

"We wait," he replied. "David has to bring Paige's testimony to the judge. He's also trying to get her an order of protection but that would just put her on the radar so for now she's stuck having Netflix movie marathons in my apartment." He sighed. "All we can do is wait."

"And hope none of us are dead by then?" she couldn't help but whisper.

"Yeah," he replied softly reaching across the desk to hold her hand.

* * *

"God I'm fucking tired," Punk muttered as he came through the door that night at nearly 10 PM. The mountain of paperwork he was behind on because of taking time off and being at AJ' s bedside in the hospital was overwhelming. He was nowhere close to getting it done and his mind was barely in a place to get through it at a reasonable pace anyway. Long after his shift was over and he was staring down at yet another incident report form he'd closed his eyes and imagined being far away from this place. Maybe back in his hometown of Chicago in a new apartment, doing something other than guiding lost souls wearing prison jumpsuits. Maybe he could take a vacation to the west coast and hang out on the beach for a few days, get some new ink from some of the famous shops in California. In this fantasy maybe AJ could be with him somehow. He didn't know for sure. But it sounded nice.

As he closed the door behind him he saw Paige frantically searching through her bag on the couch. "No no no…" she groaned. "It's got to be here somewhere!"

"What's wrong?" Punk asked with a frown. "What are you doing? What are you looking for?"

"The refill for my inhaler!" she cried as she tore through the bag again.

"Inhaler?" he echoed.

"I have asthma," she explained without looking up. "I was almost a few days ago so I picked up my next prescription before I left. I can't find it! It's not here! I must have left it at home!"

"Well settle down, settle down," he said calmly. "Can't you just call for another one at the pharmacy here? I can go pick it up for you first thing in the morning."

She shook her head rapidly. "You don't understand," she replied. "I just picked a new one up a few days ago. They won't give me another one for a few more weeks until I would be almost out."

"How important is this inhaler?" he asked slowly.

"Extremely important especially now!" she cried. "Asthma can get worse with stress and I've never been more stressed out then I have been now. We have to go back for it!"

"No," he said quickly shaking his head. "Absolutely not. It's too dangerous!"

"Phil we have to," she begged.

"But what about those 'hounds' of Austin's you said he would probably have after you?" he pressed. "Those 3 guys, Dean and Seth and Roman? They're probably sitting on your place right now!"

"I know it's dangerous but if I have an attack while you're asleep or at work then I could die," she told him. "I could run out of air and die right here!"

He groaned angrily as he threw his jacket down on his kitchen table. "This is insane," he muttered as he ran a hand through his hair. He didn't want to put them in harm's way again but it seemed like they didn't have much of a choice. After all it was at his desperate urging she was even here and needed to go get that refill in the first place. "How are we even going to get in without them seeing us?"

She looked down thoughtfully for a moment. "There's a fire escape on the side of my building," she replied. "We can get in from there. It faces an alley so if they're in the front they won't even see us."

Punk sighed heavily and stood up. "Well let me just change into my sneak past murderers clothes," he muttered as he walked past her. "Then we'll get going."


	18. Chapter 18

"I can't fucking believe we're doing this," Punk growled to himself for what had to be the 50th time tonight as he pulled into the exit lane and turned off of the highway. "I'm a prison guard trying to get an inmate's murder conviction overturned and _this _is the craziest thing I've ever done." He had even rented them a car so it wouldn't be recognized if they were spotted.

"I'm sorry," Paige whispered yet again. She'd been mostly silent on the drive back to New Jersey. It was clear she felt terrible about sending them back into what could be a warzone.

Punk just sighed. "Don't be," muttered. "It's really my fault anyway I guess." He was quiet for a few more moments as he drove. It was after 1 AM now and the roads were fairly empty and quiet. "So where am I supposed to turn again?"

"Up here," she replied pointing to the next stop light. "Make a left. The building is on the corner up there so we have to pass it and make a right into the alley."

"And we won't be able to be seen from the parking lot?" he asked. "You're sure?"

"Positive," she said.

"And what if one of them is watching the alley? I guess we're out of luck then aren't we?" But when he watched her crumple in the passenger seat he felt terrible again. _Stop being such an asshole_, he had to remind himself yet again. _It's not her fault, it's yours. Partly hers for forgetting the fucking inhaler but mostly yours because you're the idiot who decided to dive into this bullshit in the first place. Her whole world has been fucked up so stop making her feel even worse than she already does! _"Ok. I'll park back here by the dumpster." He was thankful the building was big, from this angle the parking lot was completely obscured and the car was invisible from in front of all of the big garbage containers.

He shut off the car and they both slipped out of it closing the doors as quietly as possible. Paige pointed up to the fire escape which began a floor above them. Frowning Punk knew what he had to do, standing beneath the ladder and offering his hands to give her a leg up. He was able to boost her up just high enough that her fingertips were able to grasp the bottom rung of the ladder. With a small grunt of effort she was able to pull herself up but as she began to climb Punk realize he had no way up. It took him a moment of glancing around the alley to spot an empty wooden crate which he dragged over under the ladder. It still left him a bit of clearance to the ladder but it gave him enough height to reach it when he jumped. He scrambled up the ladder and started following Paige up the floors of the fire escape.

"How much higher?" he asked when he reached her.

"I'm on the 6th floor," she whispered back. "Just one more."

A few minutes later he found himself standing next to her in front of a window that looked into what he could only assume was her bedroom. It looked like the room had been torn to shreds, the mattress lifted off the bed frame and all the drawers on the dresser open with their contents strewn about. "I think you were robbed," he told her.

She shook her head. "The guys probably broke in and searched the whole apartment," she told him. "They were looking for any sign of where I might have gone."

"Ok so how do we get in?" he asked. He pointed down to the latch he could clearly see on the other side of the glass that secured the window in place. It was open less than an inch on the bottom but it was way too small for either of them to fit their hand through. "It's locked."

"Hold on a second," she said. "I leave it like this on purpose." She reached into the pocket of her jacket to reveal what she'd brought along, a bent open bobby pin that was attached to a thin spool of pliable wire. She started unwinding the spool and feeding the pin in the tiny open gap. Punk watched with a slight smile on his face as she effortlessly threaded the pin up around the lock and pushed the wire up so the latch disengaged. With a smile of her own she pushed the window open.

"Where the hell did you learn how to be a cat burglar?" he asked with a chuckle.

"You learn a lot growing up around Austin," she replied.

His expression turned grim again. "Alright let's do this." He climbed inside.

* * *

"Dean," Seth muttered tiredly as he elbowed their dozing leader. "Dean wake up."

"What?" Dean growled his eyes fluttering open.

"Your phone is beeping," Seth replied. "Tell whichever bitch is texting you to go away."

Dean grumbled as he snatched his phone off the dashboard. "You're just jealous," he muttered. "My phone just keeps ringing off the hook and yours stays silent."

"Yeah keep dreaming," Seth chuckled. "Now tell her to fuck off."

"You guys are idiots," Roman snapped as he shifted around uncomfortably in the back seat. "What the hell is the point of keep watch in shifts when you assholes keep waking me up?"

Dean laughed but as he glanced at the screen he saw it was no call or text message. "Nope," he said quickly as he sat up. "Game time. It's one of the alarms."

All 3 of them were instantly wide awake as they grabbed their guns and got out of the car. When they started watching the apartment they'd installed some wireless motion alarms that were connected to one of their phones, one on each window and one at the front door. The signal didn't broadcast far which meant they had to be in the parking lot at all times. Finally their patience was paying off. Someone had entered the apartment and based on the time of night and which alarm went off Dean could tell it wasn't a building superintendent or maintenance man.

"Which one was it?" Roman asked as they raced toward the building.

"Window over the fire escape," Dean replied. "It's either a really eager burglar… or her. Let's move!"

* * *

"I thought I left it right on the coffee table," Paige sighed as she shifted through the wreckage on her living floor while Punk stood impatiently near the door to her bedroom. This was supposed to be a quick trip but he supposed he couldn't account for Austin's men having trashed her apartment. It seemed like it was taking her ages and each second dragged on like an hour.

"Just hurry up already," Punk urged. "Should I help?"

"Maybe you could- wait no, here it is!" she announced standing up. Sighing with relief she shoved the refill into her pocket. "Ok let's-"The knob in the front door started turning. They both froze.

"Hey Paige?" a singsongy male voice called from beyond the door. "Is that you in there?"

"That's Dean!" she whispered frantically.

"I know you're in there baby," Dean continued cheerfully. "Your boys are here to take you home."

"Just give me a second to pick this lock," a second man called.

"That's Seth!" she squeaked.

Punk had to snap into action. He grabbed Paige by the wrist and yanked her into her bedroom but as he leaned over the window he saw a third man he could only guess to be Roman climbing up the fire escape. "Fuck!" he hissed angrily. "We're surrounded… come on." He pulled her into the kitchen and started opening the window that was over the kitchen sink.

"There's no fire escape there!" she protested as he climbed onto the counter.

"We don't have a choice," he whispered. "Come on!" He scrambled out of the window and planted his feet on the extremely narrow ledge below. Biting his lip and ordering himself not to look down he started inching along the brick wall. There were maybe 10 feet between him and the corner of the building and he knew right beyond it was the fire escape. They just had to make it there and wait until Roman was in the apartment before climbing down… "Paige come on!"

He looked back to find her nervously climbing through the window and hopping down onto the ledge. He nodded approvingly to her and they both began making their way along the wall. Just as he reached the corner and grabbed onto the drain pipe that ran down the length of the building a fierce gust of wind picked up, lifting his favorite Chicago Cubs cap right off his head and carrying it off into the night. "Fuck," he growled angrily as he watched it sail away. But he had bigger problems to worry about right now. He would mourn the loss of his cap later.

Peeking nervously around the side of the building he was able to see Roman climbing into the apartment. Sighing with relief that the fire escape was open now he started inching around the side. But it was then he realized if they just climbed right onto the fire escape at this level the men inside the apartment they would both see and hear them. No they had to go down a level somehow… he felt Paige bump up against him as she reached him. "Wait here," he whispered. "We have to go down one." Glancing down he saw the next level wasn't too far from where he was standing. With his height he would easily be able to clear the gap. Hanging onto the drain pipe with one hand he stretched his body out and swung forward, letting go at the last second to land on the ledge of the fire escape below.

He instantly winced at moderately loud noise his landing made. "Paige come on," he said hurriedly.

"I can't!" she squeaked clinging to the drain pipe. "I'm too small, I'll fall!"

"We probably have about 30 seconds until they investigate that noise and maybe 30 more until they realize we went out another window," he said. "Just let go and jump."

"I can't!"

"Paige, let go! I'm not gonna drop you!"

"I can't do it, I'm going to fall!"

"I'll catch you I promise!"

"No!"

He couldn't argue with her anymore. He stepped up onto the edge of the fire escape and grabbed her arm yanking her back onto it with him. They tumbled to the ground but quickly scrambled back up. That noise would for sure summon the dogs and just as Punk thought one of them stuck his head out the window. "Down here!" yelled the second man, Seth.

What happened next had to have been the longest minute of Punk's life. He and Paige tore down the fire escape as fast as possible, sliding down the ladders while the 3 men above them were hot on their tails. They were still at the third level when Punk touched down on the ground grabbing Paige by the wrist once more and running to the car. He heard bullets echoing after them as he barely even closed the door before speeding out of the alley while his heart beat out of his chest.

* * *

"Damn it!" Roman shouted in anger kicking a trash can.

"Stop fucking shooting," Dean ordered. "Do you want this place surrounded by cops?"

"That was her," Seth said. "That was obviously her. She came back for some reason."

"Well who was the guy with her?" Roman snapped.

"I don't know Roman let me turn on my night vision mode and figure it out!" Dean cried. "I couldn't see, I have no idea. But whoever it was has to be who was hiding her."

"Austin is going to kill us if he finds out we had her 6 feet away and couldn't get her," Seth said.

"I know," Dean replied with a sigh. "That's why we aren't going to tell him."

* * *

Neither of them said a single word on the way back to Connecticut. Punk could barely process what had just happened. He was only moments away from dying a couple of hours ago and that thought sent blood rushing to his ears and caused his head to pound. How would he be able to handle this? He couldn't even open his mouth to form words to describe what just happened.

He was going at least 20 over the speed limit the whole way, screeching to a stop in the parking lot of his apartment building and parking the rental car haphazardly. got out and hurried inside not even looking over his shoulder to see if Paige was following him. But she practically stepped on his heels when he opened the door and she was the one who closed it behind them both. They stood in front of each other in his living room, a pulsing silence between them as their gazes slowly drifted up to meet.

"We almost died tonight," she whispered.

"I know," he whispered back.

"But you saved my life."

He shook his head. "I'm the one who put it in danger in the first place."

"Maybe that's true," she agreed, "but my life has been in danger since Austin walked into it. No one's ever cared about me enough to put their life at risk like that for me."

"I shouldn't have had to!" he yelled. "None of this ever should have happened!" He found himself suddenly angry, furious even but not at Paige. He was angry at the stupid TV special he'd landed on accidentally that turned him onto the case in the first place, and that sweet innocent face that made him so desperate to save the young woman who was trapped in the center of it. He was angry at himself for falling into it and opening his life to it… and at AJ for unwittingly reeling him in. It didn't matter how much he loved her smile and that the bubbly laughter he so rarely heard from her was music to his ears. Right now he was furious with her existence and the fact that she was even assigned to his cell block in the first place made him even angrier. "For weeks this has been my life, this crazy nonsense that's turned everything upside down. But I'm just an asshole with a badge, not even a gun because I'm not a real cop, just a reject inside 4 walls. What the fuck am I worth? What have I done?"

"You saved me," she replied and pressed her lips to his.

He couldn't quite explain what happened inside his mind when she kissed him. It was like a rage switch was flipped inside him and filled his body with an urge he couldn't overcome. He suddenly wanted to take out all of his anger and frustration on this woman, this 21 year old girl's body, and make her feel every single thing he felt right now. He kissed her back more fiercely than he'd ever kissed any woman before, his arms coming up to tightly encircle her back. He was briefly aware of her light, sinewy frame pressing forward against him with a force that surprised him, and suddenly his back smacked hard against the wall. He growled into the kiss, breaking it to deliver a rough bite to the curve of her neck. As his teeth sank into her pale, creamy skin she let out a whimpering cry, which only spurred him on to bite down harder. She yelped again, her knees weakening against him. But the pain was strangely arousing to her, as she hadn't expected such an eager and powerful response from him.

He leaned his back off the wall to shrug his jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor as he raised his arms to strip his shirt off. As soon as his chest was bare he felt the palms of her hands press against him, running them over the hardened muscles that were decorated with more colors than she'd ever seen on a person's skin before. She traced her fingertips around the big skull, aware of his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath her hands. When she dared look up to meet his gaze she found him staring down at her, mossy green eyes ablaze with what she could only describe as something… animalistic. He looked as though he was going to pounce on her at any moment and tear her apart.

But instead he pressed his hands onto her shoulders, shoving her down onto her knees in front of him. As he hurriedly reached to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans, he knew exactly what this was about- power. He wanted power over someone and he didn't care if it was her. So he threaded his fingers roughly through the thick tresses of black hair at the back of her skull and brought her head to his lap. When he felt her smooth lips wrap around him, he let out a groan. He felt not only pleasure ripple through his whole body but that power over her he so desperately craved.

She hadn't expected things to progress this far, hadn't even really aimed for it, and yet here she was on her knees trying her best to please the distraught prison guard. They way he'd all but forced her into this position was terrifying but somehow too exciting to stop. She kept rolling her tongue up and down the length of him, listening to the heightened moans and groans that drifted down from the man who kept a tight grip on her hair and pushed her to take him into her throat even deeper. Right afterward she felt herself being yanked back, pulled abruptly to her feet.

"Clothes off," he hissed.

She'd only shed her jacket and gotten her shirt halfway up before he lost his patience and practically tore it off. He reached for her bra too but she got to the clasp before he did, letting the lacy black undergarment fall from her body. With her beautiful chest now exposed and ripe to be picked, he spun her around to shove her back against the wall. He sank his teeth savagely into the spot just above her bust, as though her feeding on the sweet, tender skin he found there.

She cried out into his neck, pain mixed with pleasure as she suddenly found herself eager to please this dangerous man as she started fumbling with the button and zipper of her jeans and tried to step out of her shoes. She felt his rough, calloused hands push her jeans the rest of the way down her hips, yanking them off along with her panties. Suddenly naked before him, she shivered.

Hoisting her up against the wall he shifted to fit his waist against her slim, bony hips and she automatically wrapped her legs around him. She was shaking, he could feel that much as her body was pressed against hers. He could tell she was scared… and yet she wasn't fighting him either, not pushing him or trying to pull away from him. He tipped her chin up so she would be forced to look at him, his eyes boring hungrily into hers. Like an animal.

Not wanting to waste any more time, he kept her anchored to the wall with one hand and leaned his hips back so he could slide the other between her legs. He watched as her lower lip quivered, a half moan, half whimper tumbling out as he slid his index finger into her. He rocked it back and forth, eliciting more whispers of pleasure as he added a second finger to his ministrations.

Even as she felt herself practically melting into his skillful palm, she knew this achingly wonderful feeling he was providing wasn't for her. He was getting her ready for himself, and her pleasure was only a byproduct of that. She wasn't surprised at all when quickly withdrew his hand, replacing it with a powerful thrust of his hips. She cried out as he pierced her like a sword.

He completely threw himself into each enraged buck of his hips against hers. Feeling himself burning in her core was helping to cool the fire raging through his mind, and the sound of her back smacking into the wall with each time he thrust into her was the best thing he could hear. It was exactly what he needed right now, to be heaving inside her with groans and growls. Knowing that the feeling of her nails raking across his back and the cries she gasped into his neck was all a result of the pleasure he was pouring into her body made his own body twitch with satisfaction.

Her moans suddenly hitched in her throat, hitting a high note as she shuddered around him again and again. She breathed his name out, her voice cracking and her head falling forward to rest on his shoulder. She wanted that moment, where he caused her body to reach that perfect peak to last, but suddenly she was aware of herself being empty and being let back down the wall.

"Down on your knees," he ordered in a low, dangerous voice. "Now."

She understood instantly what he wanted her to do, and although her insides ached to be filled by him she wasn't in a position to argue. So she opened her mouth to close it around him once again, grasping the rough denim of his jeans as her lips slid up and down his throbbing erection.

By now he had completely lost himself. His eyes fluttered shut and his head leaned forward, his consciousness carried far, far away. "_April_," he sighed as he reached to brace himself on the wall, barely holding himself up as he finally felt the release building inside him explode. "Oh my god, baby… April…" He moaned over and over, not even aware that the name that dripped from his lips wasn't the one of the woman who was on his knees before him. All he could think of now was the innocent face of the girl he'd been cursing what seemed like only moments before.


	19. Chapter 19

Punk began feeling ashamed of himself almost immediately following his encounter with Paige. As soon as he caught his breath after finishing and the adrenaline rush started to die down he practically pushed past her, rapidly zipping up his jeans as he stumbled into his bedroom and slammed the bathroom door behind him. He barely made it to the toilet before vomiting painfully, doubled up against the cold porcelain and retching in utter disgust at his own behavior.

He couldn't believe what he'd just done. At 34 years old he was supposed to a man in control of his emotions but he'd let them overpower him so much that he had slammed that girl, who at 21 was younger than all his sisters against a wall and taken from her everything that he could. Forcing her down on her knees, tearing at her clothes, biting her to the point of tasting blood… He had humiliated her. While it was true she hadn't resisted him and it appeared as though her body enjoyed it he couldn't help but feeling as though he'd all but assaulted her. _Some stand up guy I am, _he thought bitterly as he pulled himself to his feet and over to the sink. He splashed cold water on his face but it didn't help. Only moments later he found his body wracked with the need to throw up again.

Every time he tried to get up he felt his stomach lurch. He resolved to simply stay on the floor out of convenience, hugging his knees and resting his forehead against them as he tried desperately to forget about how awful a person he'd just become.

hr

He wasn't sure how long he spent curled up on the floor of the bathroom but he eventually fell asleep leaning against the tub, waking up with a pounding headache (likely from being dehydrated after throwing up so many times). With a soft grumble he grabbed onto the towel rack on the wall behind him to help himself up squinting painfully at the bright lights. He didn't know if it was morning or not but decided to shower anyway hoping the water would help his headache.

Not surprisingly he felt only marginally better after attempting to scrub the shame from his skin. But any measure of relief his shower had gotten him was almost instantly banished when he emerged fully dressed from his bedroom and spotted Paige curled up on the couch with a what looked like a cup of tea (he wondered later where she even found any in his kitchen), watching a random episode of some sitcom on TV. She was wearing a tank top that easily revealed the evidence of his violence from the night before, a couple of angry red bite marks on her neck and shoulders and a purple bruise on her arm. He probably would have thrown up again if there was anything left in his stomach. "You're awake," he heard her say softly as she turned to look at him.

His first instinct was to look away but he forced himself to maintain eye contact with her. "Yeah," he replied with a sigh as he looked her up and down. "Fuck."

She merely shrugged. "It's not a big deal," she replied.

"You're kidding me right?" he asked blinking slowly. He moved to sit next to her. "Look at you."

"I've gotten much worse trust me," she assured him.

"Worse?" he echoed in disbelief. "How? Why?"

She looked away from him for a moment. "Let's just say Dean, Seth and Roman get bored a lot," she answered. "When they do I'm what's around. I'm not a stripper, they don't have to worry about banging me up a little and damaging me for customers. I don't need to have a perfect body to be a waitress."

"And Austin doesn't care?" he asked.

"He cares that his boys are happy," she said with a harsh laugh. But she shrugged it off. "It's ok really. You needed it and you got what you needed and I won't lie and say I didn't enjoy it. Besides… I did sort of start it didn't I?" They both remembered the soft, simple kiss that spiraled out of control.

It would have been so easy to accept that explanation and brush off his guilt but he refused to let himself off the hook that easily. "It's not ok," he protested with a shake of his head. "I hurt you. I forced you on your knees and practically choked you with my…" He shook his head again. "It doesn't matter if other guys have done worse. I shouldn't have because I'm not like them… or at least I'm not supposed to be like them. It doesn't matter how angry I was. I should have fucking controlled myself. I'm sorry."

"Well I accept your apology," she said. "But if you don't mind I'd like to shower now… I couldn't really wash myself up well with only the kitchen sink to use."

"Damn it I'm such a jerk," he muttered with a sigh. "Of course. Yeah. Go. I'm sorry about that."

She just chuckled at him off-handedly as she stood up and crossed the living room. "I'm probably not the person you owe the biggest apology to anyway," she added.

"What do you mean?" he asked with a frown.

"AJ," she replied casually. "You were saying her name last night."

"Wait what?" he nearly yelped as he stood. "I don't remember that…" That part he hadn't even allowed himself to try to think about yet because it sent his already aching head for a spin- AJ. Even though he wasn't quite in a relationship with the prison bound girl (that would be impossible given their circumstances) he felt a terrible amount of guilt for sleeping with someone else while still trying to dig through the many confusing emotions he felt about AJ.

"You were," Paige assured him. "You were… well… moaning her name while you were with me."

"Bullshit! When?"

"When I was sucking your dick," she said flatly with her hands on her hips, then laughed as she watched his cheeks turn bright red. "Look it's ok I promise. It's so obvious what's going on."

"Yeah?" he asked trying to duck his head as he felt his cheeks heating up even more. "What?"

"You love her."

"What?" he cried. "No. That's… no, no way."

"You should tell her," she said in a serious tone.

He felt his chest seize up a little. He couldn't afford to think about this right now. "I'm gonna be late for work," he muttered as he grabbed his badge off the table and hurried out the door.

* * *

AJ was practically dancing when the mail cart came around that morning. She would recognize that letterhead anywhere, the one stamped David Otunga, Esquire that was addressed to her. She didn't even bother playing into Natalya's teasing ("did your boyfriend write you a letter? Why? Can't you just see him when he comes on shift later?") as she tore open the envelope. Scanning the letter eagerly she nearly squealed with joy by the time she reached the end. It was the best news she could have gotten from her lawyer right now, exactly what she had been waiting to hear.

Her happiness was so palpable even Natalya noticed and this time her dry chuckles got a response out of AJ. "What's got you about to explode?" she asked as she lay back on her bunk.

AJ was so excited she nearly blurted it out but she remembered just in time that she and Punk had agreed it would be a better idea to keep everything as quite as possible for as long as possible. "Oh nothing really," she replied as she bit her lip in an attempt to keep the happiness off her face. But it was impossible. "It's just uh a letter from my mom. I haven't heard from her in awhile."

Natalya saw right through her. "Bullshit," she said and before AJ could react Natalya snatched the letter right out of her hands, keeping the small woman at arm's length and fighting off her protests as she read over the letter briefly. "Well well well! Looks like someone is getting an appeal!"

"Give it back," AJ growled. "Now!"

"Fine," Natalya chuckled as she tossed the folded up letter back to her feisty cell mate. "It is good news sure… but don't get your hopes up. Appeals are nice but they almost never end up overturning your conviction. At least you'll be able to be out of the prison for days at a time for the trial."

"Thanks for having so much faith," AJ scoffed. But she was confident. She wouldn't let Natalya's mutterings get her down. This was going to turn it all around and someday down the line she would be walking out of these cold concrete walls with her head held high… she couldn't wait to tell Punk.

She found him patrolling the yard after lunch and with her bursting with excitement it took a lot of self control not to run up to him as soon as she spotted him to tell him about the letter. She forced herself to remain calm as he approached her but she couldn't wipe the smile off her face and she didn't want to… there were very few things to get happy about while she was an inmate at a maximum security prison and she was very reluctant to let that feeling go. She was suddenly able to forget about the threat of Randy, Warden McMahon and Steve Austin breathing down both their necks and just hope for the future she could see on the horizon. "I have news," she told him in an excited whisper.

"Let's go to my office then," he said with a nod.

As soon as he closed the door behind them she took the letter out of her pocket and thrust it into his hands. "It's from David," she announced proudly. "I got it this morning. The court agreed to hear the appeal! Oh Punk I'm so excited, this all thanks to everything you've done! I can't thank you enough for helping me!" She threw her arms eagerly around his neck.

He felt the echo of his chuckle against her cheek. "It's not over yet," he reminded her.

"But I wouldn't have even gotten this far if it wasn't for you!" She impulsively kissed him, pressing her smooth lips against his chapped ones and feeling the small hole he'd once told her was left for the lip ring he wasn't allowed to wear to work. He tasted like toothpaste and a hastily eaten muffin, and a taste she associated with the only happiness she'd known so far during her months in this hell hole.

When their mouths gently collided Punk felt that same familiar warmth glow inside his chest that he'd felt the last time they were this close. As his arms slid around her waist and her soft giggle bubbled against his lips he suddenly realized that he couldn't tell her about what he'd done with (or to) Paige the night before. He couldn't bear to see the smile and happiness fade from her face, replaced with pain, hurt and betrayal. He realized he loved her too much to do that to her.

* * *

"We're really sorry boss," Dean repeated. "We've been sitting on the place for days and we haven't seen her yet. There's been no activity and any lead we've followed has turned up nothing."

"Well you better fucking get your asses in gear and find that damn girl!" Austin shouted. "It's no fucking coincidence that she disappeared into thin air days before the Mendez case hit the docket again! She's been talking and that leak needs to be fucking plugged, so find her or it's all our asses in the fire!"

Dean grimaced as the line went dead, dropping the phone in his lap. "Well boss is mad."

"Yeah no shit," Seth sighed as he kicked an empty beer can across the parking lot. "Why are we still here anyway? There's no way she's gonna show up here again after what happened Wednesday night."

"Because we have nowhere else to go?" Roman suggested. "Where the fuck else are we supposed to look for her? She vanished and whichever guy was with her is obviously hiding her."

"Wish we knew who it was," Dean muttered. "We could pop them both and just fucking be done with it already." He kicked sideways at a bottle next to him.

"Hey that was mine!" Seth growled.

"It was empty," Dean said with a shrug.

"There was still soda in it." Sighing Seth ran across the lot to chase after it. As he picked up his (near empty) bottle of Coke he noticed a faded, fraying baseball cap near the building. Holding it up he jogged back to the car. "Hey, doesn't this look familiar?"


	20. Chapter 20

_"You're sure the guard is hiding him?" Austin asked._

_"99% sure yeah," Dean replied earnestly as he put the phone on speaker. "It's the same fuckin hat he always wears. We should know, we followed the asshole for weeks. It's too much of a coincidence that a random Chicago Cubs baseball cap would happen to show up in the parking lot of Paige's building. He was here. He's been hiding her. How many Cubs fans do you know who live in New Jersey?" _

_"It makes sense," Seth added. "Him poking around at the club is why we started tailing him in the first place isn't it? He was trying to get information on Mendez."_

_"He probably talked to Paige before he even left and no one had any idea," Roman chimed in. _

_"So then either he called her or the other way around to get her into hiding," Seth continued. "And either way she must be talking otherwise that case wouldn't be approved right?"_

_But instead of being reassured by the information his 3 hounds had delivered Austin was angry. "It took you stupid fuckers this long to come up with this?" he snapped his fury clearly evident in his tone of voice. "I told you this needed to be done fast! I pay you assholes way too much to have to deal with your fuckin incompetence. Get your shit in order before I crush your heads together!"_

_Dean gritted his teeth. "Yes sir," he muttered. "We'll take care of it right away."_

_"No," Austin growled. "I have to call Vince. The last thing I need is that fucker breathing down my neck for taking out one of his guards without asking him about it first."_

_"So when do we go after them?" Roman asked._

_"When I say so." The line went dead._

_Furious, Dean slammed his phone down. "They're going to fucking pay."_

* * *

AJ sighed softly as she dragged her index finger across his bare chest drawing invisible circles. "Why do you always get so quiet after?" she asked him quietly tilting her chin to look up at him. Her chocolate brown eyes were wide with adoration as they met with his.

"It's just a little weird for me to get used to," Punk admitted with a nervous chuckle his arms hanging loosely around her body. "I haven't done this before and I promised myself I never would but here I am with you." He sighed. "I know it's different because you're not just some inmate getting taken advantage of and I know you're innocent but… it's still just a weird shift of my morals you know?"

"I understand," she replied pressing her cheek against his chest. She always understood.

In the 4 days following Punk's narrow escape from Austin's men he still hadn't told AJ about his encounter with Paige. He felt like a complete scumbag for not telling her what happened between him and the girl he was sheltering but he couldn't find it within himself to hurt her that way. She was already convicted of a horrible crime she didn't commit, railroaded into prison and abandoned by her whole family in addition to being attacked a total of 3 times during her time as an inmate so far. He convinced himself that she didn't need the added heartbreak to deal with. She didn't need to know that weakness and anger had led him to making such a mistake.

He applied the same logic to not telling her about running into Austin's men either, when he very nearly met his end at the hands of 3 bloodthirsty guys. He knew she already felt guilty for placing his life in danger. Why make her feel even worse especially during such a crucial time, when her case was going back to court? No for now it seemed that it was best that she didn't know what happened earlier in the week.

And yet even in light of all the shame he felt from keeping those secrets from her it didn't stop him from sleeping with her in his office every day since his brush with death. It made him feel like every bit the scum he was trying to avoid being and behavior of his own that reminded him of Randy nearly made him sick to his stomach but he couldn't stop himself. He was so desperate to be close to the fiery young woman he was trying rescue that he was willing ignore what he was hiding from her just to be with her.

He knew his friends had every idea of what was going on too. Punk usually clocked out with Curt and Christian at the same time (at least before he went back to his office to catch up on paperwork, because he wasn't being paid extra for all the overtime he was working) but now both of them would see him leaving his office holding onto AJ's arm as he escorted her back to her cell. While Curt loudly voiced his opinions about what Punk was doing (he thought it was wrong on every level and that Punk was wasting his time) Christian was old enough and had been working here long enough to know better.

"I've been here too damn long," Christian told him one day. "So I know what you're doing is probably the least amount of corruption that runs through this place and I won't bother trying to beg you not to like Curt has been doing. But you've told me some of the crazy stuff that's going on right now so all I'm going to tell you is to not to lose your head on this ok?"

Punk had merely sighed at him in reply. If only they knew how much danger he was really in.

He sat now in his office chair, half naked with AJ curled up on his lap. As he lazily dragged his fingertips up and down her arm he had to wonder if the reason he was able to let go of his previously strict morals was just because of the sheer amount of stress he was under. It wasn't easy living with constant guilt and the threat of losing everything he had (including nearly his life) and perhaps that was why he felt the need to suddenly just let go and indulge in what he wanted… and what he wanted was her.

"You're scared aren't you?" AJ asked him suddenly. "You're scared of all this that's happening."

"What are you talking about?" Punk asked looking away. Was it really that obvious?

"I can tell you're scared by how you've been since Monday," she replied with a soft chuckle. "People do things out of their usual way when they're scared. For you that's hiding me in your office and letting go and doing what you want to do with me. It's ok, I'm scared too."

"What are you scared about?" he asked her.

"The waiting is pretty scary," she admitted. "Waiting for everything to get to court I mean. Days have never gone by slower since I got that letter from David. I keep thinking something is going to happen between now and when it finally starts up and I'll end up dying here." She bit her lip and this told him there was clearly more fears then that on her mind.

"What else?" he urged squeezing her shoulder. "Might as well tell me."

"Other than being afraid for you?" she chuckled. "The guy I used to work for isn't a push over and you already know that. I always worry about you, when you're in here and when you leave to go home." She sighed. "I'm scared of what happens after. What happens if my conviction _is _overturned? I have no place to live and not a single dime to my name. My face was plastered all over the news from the day I was arrested till I was convicted. I'm infamous now especially around here and all along the east coast. How will I get a job, where will I go, how will I survive?"

"Those are good problems you'll hopefully have later," he said. "Let's worry about getting you out of here first and I'll take care of the rest of that when the time comes." He laughed. "I have a big bed."

"You'll take care of it?" she asked with a small chuckle. "You're going to take me under your wing if I get out? I appreciate you saying that but Punk… you barely know me. How do you know you aren't going to hate waking up next to me after a week of seeing my face? I may be cute but I'm not _that _cute."

"We're going to figure it out," he assured her. "I promise you." He knew at this point, after his involvement in her case had lead to her nearly being murdered and now that he was lying to her about how critical things had gotten, he owed it to her, and not just because of his own feelings.

* * *

"Not burning the midnight oil tonight?" Christian asked opening his locker.

"Not tonight," Punk replied as he closed his at the same time. "Seriously, fuck paperwork. I want to go home and fall asleep in front of my TV to reruns of The Simpsons. What are you doing anyway?"

"Suiting up for my next shift," Christian answered. "I was out 2 days a few weeks ago with a cold so big bad Vince threw me on overnight to make up for it. I would rather take the pay cut on my next check but that wasn't an option." He sighed as he buttoned up his fresh uniform shirt.

"Overnight is usually a joke anyway, you'll be fine," Punk reminded him. "You can probably catch a few hours of sleep in the watch booth if you really wanted to."

"Hell no," Christian said with a harsh laugh. "Not when I'm on shift with Randy! I don't want to close my eyes around that asshole. I'm afraid I'll wake up with a noose around my neck."

"Well keep a hand on your baton then," Punk teased but they both knew the real threat Randy posed. Sighing he stood up, locking his locker and grabbing his car keys. "I'll see you… tomorrow?"

"Day after," Christian corrected. "No way I'm working tomorrow after a double today."

Punk nodded. "Good man, I'll see you then." He headed out the door.

He was nervous driving home that night as usual constantly glancing around and trying to remember if any of the cars around him were any he recognized over the past several days. But never saw that same green car or any others from the parking lot at the prison, either. He knew that didn't mean he was safe, not by any means but at least it (hopefully meant) they hadn't found him and were still more interested in looking for Paige then they were tracking his boring daily habits.

He entered the parking lot of his building feeling a little bit better since his conversation with AJ. She was just as scared as he was, but so far it looked like they could handle it together. Perhaps as long as they just laid low and he kept his head in order both of them would survive until this case was over.

He sighed tiredly as he stopped in the lobby of the building and checked his mailbox, carrying with him up to his floor a stack of the usual bills, junk mail and sad attempt at a letter from his mother. He knew that would be going straight into the trash. "Paige?" he called as he opened his front door not looking up as he flipped through the stack of envelopes in his hands. "You better not be in the fuckin shower because I just worked 9 hours and-"

Punk immediately dropped everything in his hands when he looked up and surveyed the scene in his living room. Paige was sitting on the floor against the side of the couch, cheeks streaked with cheers. A gun held by Seth was pressed against the side of her head. On the other side of her stood Roman and in the middle of the room was Dean, holding the baseball cap Punk thought he'd lost forever.

"Welcome home _Punk_," Dean spat. "Let's have a chat."


	21. Chapter 21

Punk felt his blood running cold and rushing to his ears his eyes widening as he took in Paige's terrified expression. "How?" he choked out through gritted teeth. "How did you find us?"

"You left your calling card," Seth spat and Dean balled up the Chicago Cubs cap in his fist and spiked it angrily at Punk. It unfolded as it hit his chest and drifted to the floor. "We followed your tattooed ass around this backward town for weeks. I'd know this shitty hat anywhere."

Punk swallowed what felt like a ball of lead in his throat watching as Dean ran his hands back over his slicked back hair. "You've been causing us a lot of stress lately Punk," he said in a soft, calm voice that actually carried a rather terrifying tone with it. "You know how hard we've been looking for our girl over here?" He jabbed his gun in Paige's direction. "We've got the bosses breathing down our necks yelling at us and that it's our asses on the line if we can't find her."

"Please," Punk begged. "She's just an innocent girl. Don't-"

"Innocent!" Dean broke into laughter. "Roman how innocent is Paige?"

"Plenty innocent," Roman replied with a harsh chuckle. "She was definitely innocent when she climbed into the back seat of my car a few nights before she took off with you."

"And Seth?" Dean asked. "How innocent is she?"

"Totally innocent," Seth answered. "Like every time she blew me in the alley behind the club."

"What about you Punk?" Dean asked. "Have you tasted the not at all forbidden fruit? Have you gotten our sloppy seconds, thirds and fourths while you've been hiding her?"

Punk watched as fresh tears sprang to the poor girl's eyes. "She doesn't deserve to be hurt," he clarified. "Please just let her go. I was the one who begged her to come here. I convinced her to-"

"So she has been talking has she?" Dean howled. He crossed the room and crouched down in front of Paige. "Why have you been talking baby? You had everything going good and all you had to do was just keeping your fucking mouth shut like you've been keeping it shut all these years!"

"We're going to find out what you said," Seth snapped tapping the side of her head with the barrel of his gun. "Both of you will tell us what you've said and who you've told it to."

"They will," Dean agreed. He was inches from Paige's face and able to hear her soft whimpering. "But first you're gonna make it up to me for all the stress you've caused lately." Without warning he took a fistful of Paige's hair and yanked her to her feet. She yelped in pain as he dragged her into the middle of the room and forced her down onto her knees in front of him.

"Please don't," Paige begged tearfully."Please."

Punk felt his chest tighten in fear as he had every idea of what Dean was planning. "Wait-" he started as he moved to intercept them but as soon as he moved Roman took several steps forward.

"You stay the fuck back," Roman ordered raising his gun.

"No make him watch," Dean growled. "This asshole's obviously got a thing for the damsels in distress. Bring him over here. Make him see his damsel in plenty of distress."

Seth walked over to the door and went to take Punk by the shoulders, shoving him down to his knees just like Paige and jabbing his gun roughly against the back of his skull. He grabbed Punk's shirt collar and turned his head to face Dean and Paige. "Don't move," he said. "You'd better stay still."

"Now if you bite me Seth's gonna blow lover boy's brains out and you're gonna scrub them off this floor do you understand?" Dean asked. "Good." He grinned evilly. "Now you're gonna make daddy happy."

All the while Punk was forced to watch the scene unravel before him. Biting his lip so hard it bled he could only watch as more tears stung Paige's eyes and her hands shook as she slowly raised them to Dean's belt. He couldn't let this happen. The gun jutting up against his head told him that any movements were going to get both of them killed… but he also knew that if he didn't make a move soon they were going to die anyway, likely after being tortured to give up information and with Paige dying after being victimized one last time by these vicious dogs. He had to put a stop this somehow. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes for a moment, thinking of the girl he was doing all of this for in the first place. He thought of her beautiful eyes and contagious laughter and her desperate desire to finally be free. _If this doesn't work out… I'm sorry AJ, _he thought.

It all happened almost too fast for Punk to even process. After taking another deep breath he jerked his head straight back jamming it into the gun behind him. It knocked the weapon back into Seth's crotch. Seth groaned in pain and the gun dropped, clattering to the floor and Punk dove to catch it. Just as he did he heard a bullet fly over his head just missing his scalp and lodging into the wall behind him. He looked up to see Roman firing, running across the room as Dean brandished his gun and pointed it at Paige. With Seth still doubled over in pain Punk launched his body at Dean, sending him crashing to the floor and knocking into Roman in the process. He saw Paige slip out from under everyone and kick wildly at Roman, sending his gun sliding across the floor and out of reach.

"Go!" Punk shouted as he turned over with Seth's gun still in his hands. "Get the fuck out of here!" As soon as she was cleared from the room he started firing almost blindly. The sound was deafening and he was sure blood was about to poor from his ears… but that wasn't where it was coming from. Dean fired back, not able to get a clear shot in the commotion but he was able to rip a burning flesh wound across Punk's ribs. He cried out in pain, falling back to the floor and firing back again as he saw Seth coming into the corner of his vision. Seth yelled and crumpled back against the table, clutching his arm.

"You're fucking dead!" he heard Roman growl as he felt the same man's boot strike him in the head. He was dizzy as he rolled over onto his back, the image of the tall man above him out of focus as he aimed the gun and fired before Roman could kick him again. Roman fell back and Punk immediately had to dodge another round fired by Dean, who was rapidly getting to his feet. Punk launched himself at the ring leader, driving his elbow into his face. He received an equally forceful punch right to his gunshot wound, giving him a pain so fierce he reeled back into the wall near the table and dropped the gun.

"You just couldn't stay away!" Dean yelled wiping his bloody nose with the back of his hand and jamming another clip into his gun. "All you had to do was mind your own business!"

Punk's mind was almost completely dizzy. He could faintly hear Dean loading the gun and as he gasped in pain while clutching his side he knew he had to act fast or he wouldn't have the ability to keep his eyes open for very much longer. With another burst of strength he swiped his arm across the table sending the glass bowl in the center right at Dean. It shattered against him giving Punk just enough time to grab the fallen gun and fire the last bullet he had. Dean shouted and clutched his thigh as he fell.

He got to his feet and stared down at the 3 bleeding but very alive men on the floor of this apartment, completely stunned and with absolutely no idea what to do next. He was sure his neighbors had heard the commotion and at least one of them had probably called the cops but he had no idea how to explain to them what happened when they arrived. He knew he also needed to find Paige and wondered how far she'd gotten from the apartment since the brawl began. He would need medical attention too… As all of these thoughts were running through his mind and he was looking out into the hallway he didn't even notice Dean's hand slide into his pocket, pull out his cell phone and start rapidly dialing a number.

Punk's attention was brought back to the man in the center of his living room floor when he heard shouting. "Get Mendez!" Dean was shouting. "Get her now Orton! Priority one!"

"What the fuck are you doing?" Punk snapped rushing to kick the phone out of Dean's hand.

Dean just rolled onto his back and laughed at him. "You're too late Brooks. Your girl is done."

Punk understood what he meant instantly. With the adrenaline pumping through his veins he was able to shove his pain away. Putting the gun in his waistband he took off at a run, not even waiting for the elevator and tearing down the stairs taking the steps 2 at a time. When he ran into Paige in the lobby he realized the entire fight in his apartment had taken only a couple of minutes but he didn't have time to go over the complexities in his head. "Get in the car," he ordered Paige as he ran by her to the parking lot and yanked his phone out of his pocket. "Now!" He started dialing.

"What happened to you?" she cried as she followed him. "You're bleeding! They shot you?"

"Just get in or I'm leaving you here!" he snapped as he unlocked the car and got in. He heard the passenger door open and slam. "Come on you idiot, fucking pick up…"

"Hello?"

"Christian!" he shouted. "You need to get to AJ now!"

"What?" Christian asked. "Why? Punk what's wrong?"

"Don't ask questions just go!" Punk demanded. "Randy's gonna kill her. Randy's gonna kill her!"

"Are you serious?" Christian cried. "How do you know?"

"I said don't ask questions, you have to get to her before he does, I just know!" Punk replied. He was speeding through the streets as he yelled anxiously into the phone.

"If a guard is about to murder an inmate then I need to sound the alarm," Christian said nervously.

"Don't!" Punk yelled. "Vince is in on it! You just have to stop him! Go!"

* * *

AJ was tossing and turning uncomfortably on her bunk as usual. Even after all this time she never slept well in prison, often waking up several times throughout the night with nightmares. Tonight was no different and no matter what every time she closed her eyes they fluttered open again in moments. Sighing she turned on her side and stared at the concrete wall, counting the poorly lit bricks that were partially illuminated by the emergency light at the end of each hall.

She wondered what Punk was doing right now. She didn't know what time it was but she imagined he was already home by now, maybe taking a shower or eating dinner. Maybe thinking about her. The thought of it made her smile even as she lay alone in the dark. Perhaps those thoughts would be enough to finally soothe her to sleep… no such luck as she was interrupted by the sound of her metal cell door sliding open unceremoniously. "Inmate Mendez," Randy's voice boomed.

AJ blinked nervously as she slid out from under her blanket. The last time Officer Orton had shown up at her cell in the middle of the night she had almost been assaulted by him. "Y-yes?" she squeaked.

"Front and center," Randy ordered. "You're coming with me."

She climbed down from her bunk slowly. "Where are we going?" she asked nervously. "I don't… I don't want to go with you…" She looked down at the floor not wanting to meet his eyes.

"I'm an officer," he snapped. "You don't have a choice."

She looked helplessly at Natalya, who was either sleeping like a rock or completely ignoring what was happening as AJ was yanked her out of her cell and started escorting her down the hallway. "Please don't hurt me," she begged as his grip tightened to painful levels on her arm. "Please. I'm sorry!"

"Shut up," he growled. "You make another fucking sound and I swear I'll choke you out right here. The nicer you are and the more you cooperate the longer you'll have to live."

* * *

Christian sprinted from his post in record time. He didn't know what Punk's call was supposed to mean but he knew his superior wouldn't makes calls like that as a joke. Something was going on and for some reason AJ was in danger… so he obeyed orders and ran down to cell block C fumbling for his keys as he hurriedly unlocked the cell door. "Mendez!" he called, his chest heaving as he tried regain his breath.

"My she's popular tonight," Natalya muttered sleepily as she sat up. "She's gone."

"Where?" Christian demanded.

"I have no idea," Natalya spat. "Orton took her. Dragged her out like she stomped on his birthday cake."

"How long ago?"

"A few minutes maybe. Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Fuck," Christian groaned as he ran out of the cell and slammed the door shut. He ran back out of the cell block… and skidded to a halt. He didn't know where to look for them and time was running out. _Come on, _he thought as he paced back and forth. _Think, think, think… _They certainly weren't on this block and he didn't have the time to get to the control room for security and observe all of the monitors. Where would they go? Where would a guard like Randy, who didn't have an office of his own take an inmate to be alone? Christian didn't like discussing Randy's crooked activities and had no idea where the dirty guard went… It would have to be someplace quiet, with thick walls and no cameras. Maybe with loud machinery to mask noises… like the industrial washers and driers in the laundry room.

He took off running again through the mass of interconnected hallways that made up the prison. He knew he had precious little time to rescue the inmate from that snake of a guard.


	22. Chapter 22

"Where are we going?" Paige asked frantically. "What's going on?"

"That guy, Dean, he called Randy and told him to kill AJ," Punk replied hurriedly as his car screeched through the streets. "He got his phone because I wasn't fucking paying attention and she's gonna die unless my friend can get to her in time. Fuck!" He slammed his hands angrily against the steering wheel as he skidded to a stop at a red light. "Come on, come on… I don't have time for this!" He drummed his fingers nervously on the wheel… he was running out of time. "Fuck this, Paige hold on!" She shrieked in fear as he shot through the intersection and dodged several oncoming cars to get to the other side, the red light camera flashing as he drove. He didn't care, he would pay 100 fines and scrape as many bumpers as he had to as long as it got him to the prison in time.

"Punk slow down!" she begged.

"I can't!" he snapped. "He's going to kill her!"

He broke every city speed limit along the way, mercifully not running into any cops (not that he would have stopped for them anyway). He circled around the back of the building and pulled up to the delivery entrance knowing he definitely would be stopped and questioned by the front gate guards if he showed up in such a state. Stumbling out of the car he cut the engine quickly and started fumbling for his master key. "You're bleeding worse than I thought!" he heard Paige cry from behind him.

"It's just a graze," he grunted. He didn't have time to deal with his injury right now as he unlocked the gate to let himself inside. "You have to stay here where you'll be safe."

"I'm not letting you go by yourself!" she protested.

He didn't have time to argue with her so instead he shut the gate behind him before she could slip in after him and took his car key off the key ring and pushed it through the gate. "I'm not letting anyone else get hurt tonight," he said. "Take my car and get out of here. Now!" He took off running.

* * *

"Please don't Randy," AJ begged as she sobbed. "Please. I'll do anything!" She was backed up against the cold concrete wall of the prison laundry room listening to the roar of machines around her. She knew why he had taken her hear, no one would hear the screams he was meaning to cause with the sinister looking knife he was brandishing threateningly in front of her. The room was mostly darkened but she could still see his eyes fixed on her, wild and crazy with a lust for violence.

Randy just smirked. "Your chance for that passed a long time ago," he said. "If it was up to me I would keep you around a little while longer and taste that sweet skin that's been driving Punk so crazy for you… but it's not up to me so I guess this is where we say goodbye April J. Mendez."

"Let her go!" a voice yelled angrily from the front of the room. Before AJ could react Randy had already grabbed her and spun around holding her tight against his body and bringing the knife to her neck.

"Don't take another step Christian," Randy ordered gruffly.

"What the hell are you doing man?" Christian cried. AJ recognized him and knew he was one of Punk's friends. But guards were largely unarmed and Randy had a knife… how would he get her out of this? "Come on Randy. I knew you were up to shit, but this? You're… you're better than this!"

"We both know that isn't true!" Randy laughed. He jerked his arm up against AJ's neck earning him a painful squeak out of her. "You know exactly what kind of guy I am!"

"You're not gonna get away with this," Christian growled his stance tensing. "You can't just murder an inmate and expect not to get your ass thrown in prison yourself for it!"

To both AJ and Christian's surprise Randy merely laughed again. "This is way over your head buddy," he said. "This is way bigger then you know and you're a fucking fool Christian. Go ahead, sound the alarm! It won't mean a thing. Plenty of the guys who change next to you every day are in on this and so is Vince! You think I won't get away with this? You're the one who isn't gonna get away with your life after this buddy. I don't know how you managed to find us but you should have stayed away!"

"Please," AJ squeaked. Randy's arm was tight around her neck and she could feel herself running out of air even as the knife poked against her skin. "Please don't… please don't…"

"Everything's gonna be ok April," Christian assured her. "Don't worry."

"Oh don't give the girl false hope!" Randy crowed. "Don't make promises you can't keep!"

All 3 heads in the room turned when a 4th crashed through the doorway brandishing a shaking gun. "If you don't let her go right now I'm gonna blow your fucking head off!" Punk shouted.

"I'm so glad you're here Punk," Randy said with a grin. "Now you can watch me slit her throat."

"You heard what I said!" Punk snapped. "Let her go or I'll shoot!"

"Oh are you a marksman Punk?" Randy asked. "Can you get me right through the eye without hitting little AJ here in the process?" He smiled. "It looks like Austin's boys got you. You don't look so good."

It was only then that both Christian and AJ noticed that Punk was barely holding himself up, his free hand clutching his side as sweat formed and beaded down his forehead. "I'm fine," Punk growled. "But you won't be unless you let her go right… right now, understand?"

"What happened to you Punk?" Randy asked. "A few months ago you were just another hard ass around here. Now look at you. You're a fucking desperate fool. She can't be _that _good in bed!" He laughed. "It doesn't matter what you say or do here. You're just stalling. Go ahead, you can even call the cops, she'll be dead before the phone even rings and you assholes will be stuck holding the bag for it!"

Punk's hand was shaking as he tried to keep the gun aimed steady at Randy… but he knew it was hopeless. With only one bullet left (if even that many) he only had one chance at this and he knew he would miss if he even tried. He could barely keep his arm straight and angry, frustrated tears stung his eyes as his hopeless gaze met hers. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry I couldn't… I couldn't…"

AJ stared back at him as her eyes began to water. She didn't know how everything had gotten to this point but she knew well that everything led back to her, that Punk bleeding and shaking as he held up a gun and Christian yelling and begging for this to stop was all her fault… and she wasn't going to let it end this way. This time she was going to take matters into her own hands. Taking as deep a breath as possible with Randy's arm curled so tightly around her neck she threw her head back as hard as she could driving the back of her skull right into Randy's nose. The guard yelped in pain and shoved her away, clutching his nose as a shower blood streamed between his fingers. She spun around on her feet and brought her knee into his groin so hard that he swayed on his feet.

As Randy reeled back in pain Punk and Christian acted at once. Christian tackled him at the waist bringing him down to the floor as Punk stomped on his wrist and forced him to release the knife. When his hand opened Punk kicked the blade out of reach. "Punk give me your cuffs!" Christian ordered as he flipped Randy onto his stomach and jammed his knee into the corrupt guard's back. Punk quickly took them off his belt and handed them to Christian as he helped secure Randy's flailing arms. "Stay down you bastard!" Christian clicked the cuffs around Randy's wrists. "Yeah you think you're just gonna walk away clean on this Randy? No fucking way. You're gonna go straight to-"

"_Punk_!" AJ cried. She ran to his side as she crumpled to the floor next to Christian and dropped the gun. "Just stay with me baby, it's going to be ok!" She pulled his head into her lap and bit her lip to stifle the sobs rising in her throat. She couldn't lose him like this, she couldn't…

"Oh fuck," Christian groaned. "How the hell did he get shot?" Still keeping his knee on Randy's back to keep him subdued he grabbed his radio. "This is Officer Cage, we need a medical unit down to the laundry room immediately! I repeat, medical to laundry!" As the officer on the other end of the connection responded he grabbed his own cell phone to call the police. After Randy's assertion that there were more dirty guards around here then he thought he didn't trust them to make the call.

"It's ok, they're gonna come get you," AJ was continuing shakily as she smiled through her tears and ran her hands back over his hair. His eyes were rolling around lazily trying to focus on something but he was fading fast, his body shaking in a cold sweat and skin going pale.

"A-are you- are you… ok?" Punk stammered. The hand he'd been using to cover his wound was slick with blood as it reached to cup her cheek gently. "A-are y-you hurt?"

"No baby I'm just fine!" she gasped between sobs covering his hand with hers and forced herself to smile at him again. "I'm ok. And you're gonna be ok too as soon as the medics get here!"

"I-I'm sorry I couldn't… I'm sorry I d-didn't get here sooner," he wheezed with a cough. It was getting a little harder for him to breathe. "I-I love you… I love you…" His eyes fluttered shut and his hand fell.

"Punk no!" she cried shaking him. "Stay with me! Stay with me Phil, stay with me!"


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's note: Hey guys chapter 23 is finally up, I am so sorry for the wait again, this stuff is not easy to write hahaha. I hope everyone enjoys!**

* * *

"He's going to have a crazy scar on his ribs for sure," Curt chuckled. "Do you think he'll whine about it?"

"Nah," Christian replied. "Knowing him he'll probably get some big tattoo over it as soon as it heals."

"He's going to be mad when he wakes up," Curt added. "You know he will be because we're hovering over him like den mothers and he hates that shit." He grinned. "We should tell him he's been out for a couple of months and make him think he's time traveled for a little while."

"What?" Christian punched him lightly in the shoulder. "You're an idiot. I'm going to tell him that when he wakes up and if he strangles you for it then I'm telling you right now you deserve it."

"Well you better keep your mouth shut because he's opening his eyes!" Curt exclaimed.

* * *

Punk groaned softly as his eyes slowly fluttered open. The entire room looked a little hazy to him and when it slowly swam into focus he was able to make out two figures standing over him. It was definitely Curt and Christian, and both of them were dressed in regular clothes. He opened his mouth to speak but lips felt like they were almost sealed together with how chapped and dry they were. His throat felt the same way, dry and hoarse and painful but he forced himself to speak anyway. "What happened?" he croaked. "What's going on?" His voice was raspy and he tried to lift one of his hands to massage his throat but it fell back next to him, too weak to even try.

"Relax princess," Curt chuckled. "Everything's fine. You're in the hospital."

He took in the image of the whole room, realizing the hand he tried to lift was attached to several tubes that spiraled up to an IV hanging over his bed. It suddenly all came rushing back, coming home to 3 armed madmen, bullets flying all around him, fighting to stay alive, rushing to the prison to save AJ…

"AJ!" Punk cried suddenly sitting up so fast he got dizzy again. He felt an intense fiery pain in his ribs and he clutched his side, groaning as he fell back against the thin pillow behind him. "Where is she? Is she ok?" He tried once more to sit up but the pain gripped him again and with an angry groan he was forced back down onto the bed with gritted teeth.

"Calm down," Christian ordered. "You're going to tear your stitches out!"He pulled back Punk's blanket back to reveal the thick layer of bandages wrapped around his midsection. "You were shot remember?"

"Christian where the fuck is AJ?" Punk demanded. He didn't care about his injuries right now. He had to know what happened to her and he would rip out every IV line and crawl out of this bed if he had to…

"Relax," Curt repeated calmly. "She's fine dude."

"Then where is she?" Punk reached up feebly to grab his friend by the shirt collar but missed by several feet. His hand fell weakly back to his side once again and he growled out loud in frustration.

"We don't know," Christian admitted finally. "After the cops came and I was questioned and debriefed they didn't tell me much. All I saw was federal agents in an unmarked car taking her away. Another car took that other girl too, the one you were hiding in your apartment. Paige."

"Feds?" Punk exclaimed again trying to sit up before remembering how weak he was. "What the hell is going on?" A hundred possibilities at once were running through his head.

"No one really knows what's going on," Curt tried to explain. "When I got to work the morning after the… big showdown I guess, everything was on lockdown. The place was swarming with feds and I couldn't even get past the desk. Because of what Randy told Christian about there being a lot more dirty guards then anyone knew about they decided to bring in officers from out of state until everyone can be cleared. Both of us have but we can't return to work until everyone's been cleared."

"You're high priority too," Christian added. "There are guards outside your room."

"But they just took her," Punk muttered nervously. "They fucking took her and no one has any idea-"

"Relax Mr. Brooks," said a man in a suit as he entered the room. "Miss Mendez is safe."

"Who the hell are you?" Punk snapped.

The man chuckled and pulled a badge out of his inner jacket pocket. "Special Agent Daniel Bryan," he replied. "FBI. It's good to see you're finally awake. We've been waiting to talk to you."

"You don't look like a fed," Punk said glaring at him suspiciously.

"This beard isn't exactly standard issue," Daniel agreed with a good natured chuckle. "But I assure you I'm qualified. I'm heading up this case and I've been eager to speak with you."

Punk shook his head adamantly. "Not until you tell me where AJ is," he said. There was no point in hiding how much he cared for her anymore. There was no way he was ever going to be a prison guard again after what happened last night… or however long it had been since he and Christian tackled Randy to the ground in the laundry room. What mattered now was AJ's safety.

"I guess we'll start with that then," Daniel said with a nod. "Officers… Hawkins and Cage right? Will you excuse us? It looks like Officer Brooks and I need to have a long talk."

* * *

AJ could only watch in horror as 3 paramedics took the injured prison guard from her arms and loaded him onto a stretcher, barking medical jargon over his immobile body. Her hands were shaking and still covered in his blood and she shrank down against the wall on her knees. Her gaze followed the stretcher all the way out of the room as police officers and more guards poured in.

"Everything's gonna be ok now," she thought she heard Christian say but she could barely hear him.

The next hour or so was a complete blur. She was a silent as investigators scoured the room for evidence and cops hauled Randy away in handcuffs despite his protests. She didn't react at all when she was pulled outside and sat in the back of second ambulance where a paramedic patched up a thin cut on her neck that she hadn't even realized she had. She didn't respond when Christian snapped his fingers in front of her face or when the police attempted to question her. They were getting ready to put her in the ambulance (to transfer her to a psych ward, she was pretty sure she heard one of them say) when a bearded man in a suit stepped and front of her.

"Just give me a few minutes with her," the man urged the medics. "Ms. Mendez right?"

She didn't answer, she was too busy reliving the moments where she nearly lost her life and Punk may very well be losing his. She looked away from the man and rubbed her arm.

"I found a young woman in the parking lot named Paige," he continued. "She's very worried about you and Officer Brooks. We have her in a car over there." He pointed past her.

She still didn't respond but she glanced over her shoulder and spotted her black-haired former co worker being consoled by some other suited men and police officers.

"My name is Daniel Bryan," he announced. "I'm a federal agent." He showed her his badge.

"A badge doesn't mean anything to me anymore," she whispered fiercely finally angered enough that she was woken out of her trance to speak. "I was almost killed tonight by a man with a badge. The same man tried to rape me too, a couple of months ago. Badges don't make me feel safe, Agent Bryan."

"2 men with badges helped save your life tonight didn't they?" he asked. "Officer Cage over there and the one with the gunshot wound, Brooks. Your friend Paige told me what happened to him by the way. He was shot in his apartment when 3 armed assailants came for him. He took them all down and escaped. But he didn't go to get medical attention, he drove here with a bullet between his ribs to rescue you from Officer Orton. He cares about you quite a bit doesn't he?"

Tears formed in her eyes and began trickling down her cheeks. Wiping them away she nodded and swallowed hard, an act she suddenly realized was painful. She reached to touch the bandage covering the thin slice on her neck. It still stung a little despite what the medics had done for her. But it was true, not all of the men carrying badges were scum like Randy. Some of them obeyed the call of duty like Christian. And some of them, like Punk, were willing to die for her.

"Come sit down with me," Daniel said. "Let's talk."

Sitting on the curb of the sidewalk in front of the prison with Agent Bryan, she told him everything. Well, almost everything. Leaving out any mention of her physical relationship with Punk (the last thing she wanted was to get him into any more trouble) she described to the FBI agent the whole gruesome story of her life since she was arrested for Rosa's murder. She told him about the frame job uncovered by Paige, everyone who was said to be involved, her near-assault by Randy, her officer ordered stabbing by Eve, Punk paying her lawyer to get her case reopened, Paige's deposition… she was weeping again by the end of it, trying to dry her eyes on the edges of her jumpsuit but it was useless. "I'm never going to survive now," she sobbed. "The warden has others, not just Randy. I'll never be safe and everything Punk… Officer Brooks tried to do for me will have been for nothing! He might just die for me and he threw his life away for nothing, for someone like me…"

But to her surprise Daniel shook his head. "You aren't going back to that prison," he assured her. "At least not for awhile, I can promise you that. When it crosses state lines it becomes a federal case, and trust me when I say I've been trying to get my hands on Steve Austin and Vince McMahon for a really long time. They've both been on the agency's radar for years with various amounts of criminal activity. But they're both usually very careful and they've never made a mistake before at least that we've been able to catch. But they slipped up this time and I'm going to nail them and you, Paige and Officer Brooks are going to be our star witnesses. Federal witnesses need to be protected. Paige is going straight to a safe house and so are you. You're still a convict so it's not going to be quite the same as hers, but hopefully once Austin's little frame job comes to light you'll be exonerated."

She immediately perked up. "Exonerated?" she echoed. "You mean… acquitted?"

"I'm no judge, but I'm sure your conviction will be overturned," he replied with a nod. "Hopefully with a little debt from the state for almost keeping you here for 25 years." He grinned.

But she didn't even have the time or energy to be excited about those prospects. She was still reminded that Punk was in the hospital right now, perhaps in surgery or maybe even dead and she would have no idea… "But what about Punk?" she blurted out. "Is he going to be ok? How will I know? Where will he-"

"I'll have you updated on his condition as soon as I find out," he promised. "Don't worry." He stood up. "Now I hate to have to do this but you are still a prisoner so…" He took a pair of handcuffs off his belt.

She grimaced as she stood up and put her hands behind her back, the feeling of the cuffs clicking shut around her wrists was never pleasant. But now she had a real glimmer of hope that it might be one of the last times she had to experience that feeling. And as Daniel led her to a sleek black vehicle in the parking lot she again thought of Punk. She suddenly remembered the last words he spoke to her before slipping into unconsciousness… he'd said he loved her hadn't he? Yes he definitely had spoken those impossible words. Did he mean it? It was possible he'd blurted it out in shock after losing so much blood. But it didn't matter. She silently hoped and prayed they wouldn't be the last words he ever said. She could only wait to hopefully hear him say her name again… and maybe those same words.

* * *

"She's safe," Punk breathed with a sigh of relief so heavy it hurt his injured ribs to exhale. He couldn't even describe the flood of relief he felt. "Oh my god, I can't fucking believe it. She's safe… fuck." He took a few more shuddering breaths. "So she's in a safe house somewhere? And Paige too right?" He felt a little ashamed that he hadn't even thought to ask about her until now.

"And as soon as you're released you will be too," Agent Bryan informed him. "We have Austin, Warden McMahon and the dirty guards we were able to identify in custody but we don't yet know how far their influence reaches. We have to keep all of you safe so you can testify."

"What about the guys from my apartment?" Punk asked suddenly with alarm. He knew he hadn't killed any of them, and he had just left them lying on the floor as he and Paige made their escape. If they had gotten away there was no way they wouldn't try to find him and the girls…

"Don't worry about them," Agent Bryan answered with a chuckle. "They're all handcuffed to their beds in the medical unit of a federal holding facility. They're recovering from what you did to them."

Punk sighed again with a nod. "So it's over then," he muttered. Soon AJ would be a free woman too. He actually laughed softly to himself, he could probably even stop paying David now.

"Not quite," Agent Bryan corrected him. "Not by a long shot. You still have to testify in open court against all of these guys. And while she hasn't said anything to me about it, I'm almost positive you've been sleeping with your favorite inmate and that's going to hurt your credibility."

There was no point hiding it. "Will it really matter?" he asked. "There's still plenty of evidence against them. Me getting my dick wet doesn't change how many times they've tried to kill us." _Me going insane and accidentally falling for her notwithstanding, _he thought with a soft groan.

"It doesn't," Bryan agreed, "but anything that damages the prosecution's image is something we want to avoid so forgive me if we paint you as a desperate lonely soul."

Punk just waved him off. He didn't care about that. "When do I get to see her?" he asked.

"I can't say," Bryan replied. "It might be awhile. Witnesses are usually sequestered before trial and I don't know yet how long it's going to take for the trial to actually begin."

"Then what happens from here?"

"You heal. And we wait."


	24. Chapter 24

5 days after Punk woke up from his operation he was discharged from the hospital (his surgeon even gave him the bullet that was removed from between his ribs in a tiny plastic bag, which he now kept in his wallet as a stark reminder to appreciate his life). The 2 men who had been standing guard outside his room the whole time escorted him out of the hospital through a back entrance. Daniel met him there and 3 FBI agents drove him to a small isolated town about an hour outside the city.

"We're going to this safe house you talked about?" Punk asked as they drove.

"That's right," Daniel replied.

"But I don't have any of my stuff," Punk reminded him. He was wearing hospital scrubs as pants and a 'Stamford General Hospital Baseball Team' shirt. All he had with him was his wallet and cell phone.

"We'll take care of that, don't worry," Daniel assured him. "Give me a list of what you need me to get from your apartment and I'll have it for you by tonight."

"You're going yourself?" Punk chuckled. "That sounds like a job for someone who isn't the special agent in charge. Isn't fetching my boxer shorts a little above your job description doesn't it?"

"My job description right now is keeping my 3 star witnesses safe," Daniel answered. "Don't worry."

Not long after they arrived at a small house at the end of the block in a quiet suburban neighborhood. Having grown up in the city he wasn't used to places like this. "This is it huh?" Punk asked as they parked in the driveway and he was escorted into the house. "This is suburbia."

"Hopefully it won't last too long for you," Daniel said he unlocked the door. "The place is fully stocked with food for now, one of my guys will come by every week or so with groceries."

"Every week?" Punk echoed. "It sounds like you plan on keeping me here for awhile."

"As long as we have to," Daniel replied. "I can't tell you how long. Bureaucracy is slow." He opened his jacket and took out a small pad of paper and a pen. "Here. Write down what you need and I'll go get it."

True to his word Daniel returned a few hours later with a small suitcase and a duffel bag, Punk didn't own much and wanted even less of it in case of emergency. He was grateful to be able to change into clothes he actually owned, grimacing as he changed his bandages before putting on a shirt. "How does this work now?" he asked as he emerged from the bathroom. He'd spent Daniel's absence sitting awkwardly in the living room with the other 2 agents watching a baseball game.

"These two are going to rotate out keeping guard in the house," Daniel explained. "We have a few patrols down the street guarding the route here but one agent needs to be here at all times. Think of it like having a roommate with a gun who won't let you leave the house."

"Oh that sounds great," Punk mumbled rolling his eyes. "What am I supposed to do then?"

"Well there's internet in this house I think," Daniel said. "You could probably watch Netflix." He looked at one of the agents. "Riley you're up first. Agent Mizanin will replace you on Wednesday."

Punk thanked Daniel again as he and the other agent left but as he sank down onto the couch he couldn't help but let out a soft sigh. Being cut off from the rest of the world wasn't going to be easy… and being separated from AJ was definitely going to be even harder.

hr

The next several weeks were the longest and most mind numbing of Punk's life. It didn't take him long to run out of things to do. Watching TV was never an activity that satisfied him for very long and having marathons of movies and TV shows lost its allure quickly. He couldn't work out much either, because an addition to not having any equipment he was still recovering from surgery so he couldn't even do sit ups or pushups. Each one caused his ribs to ache with pain. The one activity his body could handle right now, jogging, also wasn't available to him because he wasn't allowed to leave the house.

His FBI guardians Alex Riley and Mike Mizanin didn't offer him much either. The two of them functioned well as best friends… for each other, not for him. Punk quickly realized that he had absolutely nothing in common with either of them. They enjoyed none of the same music or hobbies and chuckled at his nerdy interest. They were both sports freak knuckleheads but even Punk's love of baseball and hockey couldn't make a conversation last long because their sports of choice were football and basketball. He quickly grew to resent them, regarding them almost like captors, not protectors.

It didn't help that not seeing AJ (or getting any updates on how she was doing) was putting him on edge. He hadn't gone this long without seeing her since they first met and since taking her under his wing he'd developed a fierce sense of protectiveness over her. Even thinking this way made him feel a little like an overly attached and protective boyfriend but going so long without so much of a peep about her was driving him crazy. He didn't even have a damn picture of her. Just images in his mind, memories in close quarters as he threw away his morals and snuck around the prison like a criminal. He wanted more than that with her even as crazy as it sounded when he ran the thought through his mind.

By week 5 of his near solitary confinement he was sure he was going insane. That Monday morning he spent the half hour after he woke up just staring out the window in his bedroom, having spotted a squirrel sitting on the tree branch a few feet away. He willed it to come closer so he could have any interaction at all that wasn't with Alex or Mike. "Come on little guy," he muttered. "Come closer. I'll give you a cookie." But finally the little creature scampered off and Punk came to his senses a little bit. Sighing he got up to take a shower, afterwards not even bothering to put on a shirt. His hair still wet he came downstairs in shorts to find Daniel Bryan in the living room talking to Mike.

"Phil!" Daniel said cheerfully. "It's good to see you."

"Punk," he corrected drearily.

"Right." Daniel nodded. "Punk. How are you doing?"

"Great," Punk replied honestly. "It's wonderful to see another human being other than things 1 or 2 over there. Not that they aren't great people but their faces get old after 2 months."

"It's been 5 weeks actually," Daniel told him. "But they've told me how restless you've been getting… being locked up like this isn't good for you. Come on, get dressed, we're going for a ride."

* * *

AJ didn't mind the solitary confinement nearly as much as Punk, because it was much better then prison. For 5 weeks now she'd been sleeping in a small room in a practically empty house in the middle of nowhere, but to her it was absolutely amazing. There was no one sleeping 4 feet away from her constantly making snide remarks (or watching her get dressed and go to the bathroom not to mention), no slimy guards giving her the creeps, no dangerous inmates stalking her and getting ready to attack. The food was better by leaps and bounds (considering someone actually cooked it daily), the clothes weren't scratchy and confining jumpsuits, and she slept in a real bed with real blankets and pillows. She had a real, clean bathroom all to herself that actually had hot water. She could shower 3 times a day if she wanted, and sometimes she did. She even had a little TV that was hooked up to basic cable. After months of a hellish life in prison this was like heaven to her, even if her only companions were her sketchbooks, the FBI agents that guarded her and sleepy daytime television shows.

But of course the loneliness did get old after awhile. Seeing the same few faces week after week gave her life a new level of monotony that not even prison had given her. She didn't even have Paige for company, because her former co worker was immediately transported to another safe house after the two of them shared a tearful hug. She gradually ran out of ideas for things to draw until she went whole days without even picking up her pencils. It didn't take her long to read every book and magazine provided in the book case, every tired old crime drama and mystery novel and outdated tabloid. She now spent most of her days zoning out in front of the television, often while doing sit ups and pushups on the floor next to her bed (he may have been incredibly bored, but at least she was as toned as she'd ever been) and daydreaming about Punk.

Thankfully Daniel had been true to his word. After taking detailed written and videotaped statements from her and transporting her to this safe house he'd given her daily updates on Punk's medical condition. She was incredibly relieved when Daniel reported he was being released from the hospital, so relieved she cried for nearly 10 minutes. She'd been so worried that after everything he'd gone through for her he'd finally given his life and putting him in the ground was something she would not have been able to bear. But after that with no news or contact the days began to drag.

She wasn't sure how many weeks had passed now when Agent Riley came into her room that day. "Miss Mendez I need you to come into the living room," he said. "Agent Bryan is waiting for you."

AJ nearly jumped off the bed and followed him out. While she didn't especially like Daniel (she hadn't really had enough contact with him to even develop an opinion about him) she was excited to see anyone who wasn't Alex or Mike. "April," he said cheerfully as she came out. "How are you doing?"

"Good," she admitted honestly. "I'm bored but it's a million times better than prison." It was only then she realized there had to be a reason for his visit, he wouldn't just drop in on her for no reason when he was busy trying to build his case against Vince and Austin. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed to ask you some more questions," he said cryptically. "Riley, go catch a break. I can look after her for awhile." His fellow agent looked at him curiously but didn't argue with his superior, grabbing his keys. "Good, I'll call you when I'm leaving so you can head back."

"W-why did you want me alone?" AJ asked fearfully beginning to back away from him. She still had an inherent fear of the men of law enforcement and never dropped her guard.

But Daniel only chuckled at her fear. "Hold on," he said as he walked to the back door and opened it.

"Punk?" she cried in disbelief as he walked to the door. But it was really him who rushed across the living room to her, her tattooed superhero who pulled her into a tight hug. "I can't believe it!"

"Believe it," Punk whispered as he held her close. "I'm here."

It still seemed like a dream come true to her. She pressed her cheek against his chest and sighed softly and happily. He felt exactly like she remembered, smelled like the minty body wash he always used. God she missed being this close to him, feeling the warmth he gave her. It seemed so strange to her sometimes that months ago she was terrified of him and loathed him, and yet now being wrapped in his arms was the only place she ever truly felt safe anymore.

"I'm gonna go run some errands," Daniel interrupted. "I'll be back in an hour. Do me a favor and don't leave the house ok? Hit the panic button if there's trouble but we're half an hour from a real town so there probably won't be." He pointed to the red indicator on the alarm system control pad on the wall.

As soon as the door locked behind Daniel Punk framed her face between his hands, stamping a fierce kiss to her lips. "I missed you so much," he groaned softly pressing his forehead against hers.

Tears were forming in her eyes already. "I was so scared for you," she whispered. "I didn't sleep for 2 days when you were in the hospital. I was so scared I would lose you!"

"You didn't," he assured her rubbing her back comfortingly.

"But I almost did." She found the bottom of his shirt and slid her hands underneath, riding them up his ribs until one of her hands found the newly healed scar. A tight gasp escaped her throat as she ran her fingertips over it. "This was me," she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

"I think the guy who shot was named Dean," he chuckled. "You're much prettier I promise."

"You would never have even met him if it hadn't been for me," she protested. "You would never have been in danger. But you were… and all for me. I'm so sorry I put you through this."

He put a finger to her lips. "Stop. Don't apologize. I chose to help." He moved his hand and kissed her again, slowly and sweetly this time. She tried to protest again but she was rendered helpless by his touch, her hands falling out from under his shirt and locking around his neck.

"Here?" she whispered uncertainly against his lips as his hands slipped down over her hips, his thumbs hooking over the waistband of her pants. "Right now?"

"Here and now," he whispered back. "Where's your room?"

She pulled him back through the hallway to the tiny room she had called home now for over a month, her heart beating wildly as she reached behind her and fumbled for the doorknob. She had been so eager and anxious to see him for so many weeks now, being in his arms again and feeling his chapped lips on hers barely felt real. It took her a moment to realize his shoulders were shaking slightly against her. "What's wrong?" she asked but when she pulled back she realized he was laughing.

"We've never done this on a bed before," he chuckled.

In spite of herself she found herself laughing too, because he was right. They'd been on his desk, in his office chair, up against the wall, on the floor… never in a bed, never like this. "It will be nice for a change," she said softly, putting her hands on his cheeks. "Won't it?"

What followed was an eager response of passion. He kissed her fiercely with everything they had both been containing for 5 long, torturous weeks. The force of it sent them both tumbling back onto her bed, but the fall did nothing to still them. Her arms fell around his neck, running her tongue soothingly over his bottom lip. For the first time she tasted metal, her tongue flicking against the lip ring she had only ever heard about but never seen. The strange foreignness of it excited her, so much so that it seemed like her hands had taken a life of their own, raking up and down the smooth skin of his back.

He was just as eager to be reintroduced to her body and feel that closeness with her again. The sensation of her nails digging into him sent a familiar shiver down his spine; she always clung to him like that when they were together. He really was here with her. That was really her soft, sweet skin beneath his lips as he moved his mouth up and down her neck, peppering her with rough kisses. There was no scratchy jumpsuit blocking his way this time, and he was easily able to pull her shirt down an inch or two to reach his favorite little spot to gnaw on- her collarbone. He heard her let out a soft yelp as his teeth sank into her flesh, her grip on his back tightening.

"Punk," she sighed breathlessly into his neck. He never failed to set her every nerve ending on fire, even with such simple touches like this. She had to touch more of him, had to feel him… it was a desperate need. One of her hands crept to the front of his jeans, fumbling with the button and zipper. She slipped into his boxers, her palm closing around his length and beginning to stroke him.

"Fuck April," he hissed, his legs weakening and his toes curling against the bed. As skilled as he was at dragging gasps and groans from her lips, she was just as good. Her manipulations were rapidly pushing him to the edge, and he bit down hard on his lip to stifle the moans rising in his throat. He heard her growl at him almost animal-like as she pulled her hand away, pressing both of them to his chest and pushing him onto his back. He looked up at her in slight confusion as she stripped her shirt off, but his mind was completely wiped blank as she yanked his pants off and took him into her mouth.

She could feel his fingers tangling in her hair, desperate moans reaching her ears as her head bobbed up and down in his lap. Part of her couldn't believe how fast this was moving… they had been reunited such a very short time ago, and here they were on her bed only moments later. But the lust filled side of her that only he had managed to bring out in her didn't care, just eager to taste more of him as she dragged her tongue up and down the underside of his shaft. She enjoyed each gasp and twitch of his body, a devilish little twinge inside her delighting in how much control she had over him right now when she normally had so little control over anything.

She was setting his blood on fire, that had to be it. That was what it felt like, with every flick of her tongue sending a rush of heat and electricity to every nerve ending. He was almost dizzy with pleasure when he felt an absence of her mouth on him. He looked up at her, watching as she licked her lips and stared back at him with pure desire. She pulled off her pants, sitting up to straddle his lap.

Feeling him inside her again, piercing her to her very core, was like a drug being delivered straight to her heart. She breathed out a deep moan, bracing herself on his thighs as she began to move her hips on him. She heard him let out a gasp-like cry, watching his eyes shut tightly as he grabbed onto her hips. His strong, firm hands helped her move even faster, her hips grinding down on him hard in a rhythm that was so beautiful to her she nearly cried out.

As amazing as it felt for him like this, this sweet motion she was creating between them just wasn't enough. He needed more. He needed it faster, harder… he needed it now. With a growl he sat up, seizing her by the shoulders and pushing her onto her back without ever breaking contact. He thrust into her powerfully and she gasped, throwing her head back against the mattress. Her moans peaked with a sharp pitch as his hips ground swiftly into hers, her nails raking unforgivingly across his back in a desperate attempt to claw for purchase. He felt her quivering around him, tightening again and again as she breathed his name into her ear.

She was still completely drugged in a haze of impossible pleasure when she felt an absence of her inside him, only dimly aware of a warm sensation spilling across her stomach. He groaned and rolled onto his back next to her. "S-sorry," he panted. "I had… to pull out… didn't have a-"

"It's ok," she assured him when she caught her own breath back. "I know."

He disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a small towel and wiping her stomach off. "What should we tell Bryan we did while he was gone?" he asked as he laid back next to her.

"Daytime talk shows," she replied, gesturing to the muted TV.

They both chuckled softly as he reached for her hand and squeezed it. It was so relieving to be back in each other's arms again… but they knew they still had a long way to go before it was over.


End file.
